Dead Space
by Froline el-Vasper
Summary: A question lingered from Chekov's mouth "Are they dead?" The red stained doors opened with nary a noise as she turned "Dead...I wish they were." Chekov/OC. CHAPTER SEVEN: “Ju are a wery… strange girl, Hannah.” A smile hung about his lips.
1. Languishing

_AN: Alright, I've returned (again) to this website. There must be a reason for doing so, none too sure why. Anyway, Chekov is not mine (as we all want him to be XD), yet the OC is, so yeah. Special thanks goes to St. Valentine, for her support and her wonderful Beta-ing skills and The Angel of Damocles for helping me structure this a bit better. This fic wouldn't have been possible without you guys. Another thank you goes to "Two Steps from Hell" and "Immediate Music" for helping me with the intense fight scenes. Okay…here goes. And also, the title, I feel, is temporary. So if anyone has suggestions, please lemme know ^^._

**Dead Space**

**Chapter One: Languishing **

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The steely interior of the ship was, sadly, a good conductor of heat. It radiated from the walls, from the floor, and the metal entities around her, slowly, like a kiln. This news was hardly good for Hannah Ebonfield. Sweat coursed its strange lines down the young face, now haggard with doubt, to the dry riverbeds of her cracked lips. Her hazel eyes, once vibrant by working on such a glorious ship, now were dull, listless orbs perched in her pallid face.

Yet a flicker of something would spark in them every now and again, whenever a

Noise flared up and bounced across the walls and into her now all too sensitive ears. This would have been hard to see, of course; the only source of light coursed up the long walls in vermillion hues, darkness lay thickly across the vast expanse of the docking bay. The heat wasn't so bad when stationary, especially seated or crouched in the cavernous husk of the docking bay, yet it made her panic even more. The heat made her feel trapped, made her remember that she was trapped. For three long, staggering days, she desperately wanted a breath of cool, fresh air. Of course there was plenty of strangling ribbons of cold outside the ship's hull, but that would be suicide.

Would that be such a bad thing now?

She shook her dark, sweat, ridden locks; as an affirmation to herself. No. Suicide was not an option. It was cowardice. She was the only one who could report to the Federation about the misfortunate fate of the crew. Her insides crumbled. The crew. And anyway, whom could she report to? No one had received the distress call that she had sent out weeks ago. Maybe it wasn't assembled well enough. She was lucky enough that the crew of the USS Cygnus to have accepted her as young as she was. Her trivial eighteen years seemed to not look on her in a favorable way at the moment. The young engineer had sent it, not through command, but from one of the shuttles. The bridge was too dangerous, far too dangerous. She raked a vein-laced hand through her hair, panic beginning to clamp its steely jaws over her racing heart.

Hannah had stationed herself behind a few crates, somewhat in the open. It was the best place to do so; no one really expected someone to hide there in the first place, and, if anyone found her, she could easily get away. Of course, this was the best she could do right now. The engineer had narrowly escaped an untimely end in her quarters, but that now seemed like years ago, like a terrible dream that she had nearly convinced herself it wasn't real. Only that it was. The cracking fissures lining the tremulous glow of her overhead lamp, the near jumping out of her skin, their screams, her own screams.

The fear was still fresh, and not so easily forgotten. She gulped down whatever saliva she had left, hoping in vain it would quench her thirst. For comfort against her new environment, she had unzipped the top part of her jumpsuit and had tied it around her waist. A grease and sweat-stained tank lay underneath. Her head lolled back against the crates, her brow clouded in despair, her mouth partially open to calm her panic.

The thought of escape had often crossed her mind. She had tried to hack into the computers system to gain clearance, and would have easily guided a pod out into the dark waters of space. Her efforts failed, partially on account of the fact that she was not too good with hacking. She had thought of sneaking into the command center and manually doing it. Too risky. Too much noise and she might have disturbed the crew. Her eyes gauzed briefly against the abandoned shell of a shuttle. One of her crewmates had attempted to pilot out of the bay, and was unsuccessful. The doors hadn't opened; he tried to maneuver around them, yet to no avail. The stench of dead human didn't really help.

So, she was now a damsel in distress, which she regretted to the highest of her morals. This new line of thought would have brought tears to her eyes, if her body had the water to produce them. A shaky sigh slipped through her, knowing that she had failed to produce the need for her body. She didn't remember the last time when water had graced the cavern of her mouth, which was now bone-dry. Her tongue lazed across her lips, like rough sandpaper. The engineer had to try, if it meant her very life. She was trapped here, and no one was coming to help her. Hannah listened for a moment, both to steel her and to see if she was alone.

Alone. Good.

A sweaty hand reached for her long-necked hammer. It had proved its use in the not too distant past. Her phaser had shorted on her, and without the necessary parts, she had to make due. She looked at it briefly, cradling its slender, yet devastating head. Fighting was not one of her strengths, even though she wished it to be. Especially now. Being quiet was also not one of her strengths. Being called a klutz would have suggested such, but she had no other choice. Hannah finally stood shakily. The darkness held many mysteries unbeknownst to her, yet she had seen some of its terrifying faces. She slung a water canteen that she had salvaged from one of the shuttles, and presently, as stealthily as she could, made her way to the door. Her footfalls probably wouldn't have given her away, but her breathing would. Her heart raced erratically, and combined with the heat, made it all the worse for her.

The steely door awaited her in a reddened glow; almost foreshadowing what events would lie beyond its papery thin partition. She sucked in a breath as she stood, entering the claw bit of the hammer into a panel, and rending it forth, pressing a few buttons, as the doors seemed to pucker and then slowly open, seamlessly as the slowly yawing passageway showed the darkness ahead. She slowly wiped the sweat from her brow as she stepped in slowly, her lip crammed between her teeth.

The dark seemed to swallow the young engineer whole, as the doors sighed shut behind her; a horrifying maw. It wasn't too far from the canteen, but it would take what felt like years to get there, she knew. Hannah slid along a wall, hoping she wouldn't encounter any horrifying faces in the dark. The sound of the backup generator immediately disappeared behind the mask of silence. She pulled through corridor after corridor, her breath attempting to slow itself down. She reached the proximity of the canteen, her hands slippery with sweat, and puckered fingers, that were in a strangulating like clutch around the neck of the hammer. The engineer could feel her heart exploding in her head, the stench from her and the stale ship churning her fragile stomach. A thought burst in her skull, like a bubble reaching the surface of calm waters. When was the last time she had eaten anything? Her stomach growled defiantly and her brow furrowed deeply, shushing its cries.

A sharp crash echoed from her left, and a gasp choked itself from her throat. Hannah stumbled into a wall and held herself there, for fear of revealing herself. The red light made distinct and simplistic shadows across the expanse of the hallway, her heart hammering against her ribs despairingly. Hannah pulled herself into a crouch against a wall in shadow, her breath coming out in short rasps. Another crash came again, yet not as loud, a grunt slowly trawling its way to her ears. She quickly peeked around the closest corner, gritting her teeth. A dark silhouette encompassed in shades of carnelian brusquely flung something heavily across the room, a dissatisfied snort emitting from its being.

Hannah pulled herself from the floor and doubled back, nearly tripping over herself. She inwardly cursed, knowing that was the most direct way to the canteen. As another growl resounded across the fragile metal walls, she assured herself that there was another way, yet it would take longer to get there, and she didn't want to have to be in this area of the ship much longer than she really had to be. The engineer shook her head, whispered a few words of encouragement to her and took off down another corridor.

The time Hannah had to take to inspect every few feet ahead seemed to take hours. Staring into the blackness gave her more of a headache that she slowly recognized. The engineer ignored it as best she could, crouching against the wall, the door to the canteen on her left. The small of her back pressed against the wall, as she repeated the same routine with the door of the docking bay. It swiftly opened, and shut behind her. She didn't seem to notice, as she stared out of the three meters of poly carbon ahead of her. The stars peppered the blackness like grains of sand, and a calm began to flood her body. _Don't worry, you've got this._ She nearly smiled to herself as she began to head behind the counter that was to her left. The smell of stale food permeated her nose, which added to the strange patina of smells that already plagued the engineer. Hannah quickly pulled behind the counter, clamping down on her nausea, her heart leaping in joy as her visage took in the darkened utility sink.

"Perfect" she whispered. She almost ran to it, seeming to forget the dangers around her. She quickly turned on the water faucet, placing her hands underneath it in hopes for cool clear water to emerge.

There was a brief gurgling, and then nothing. Her brow clouded "No…" a whisper cut through the dark. She had come so far, only to be rewarded nothing. A deep current of anger pricked her veins. The engineer shook her head nearly laughing _There's gotta be some…bottled water somewhere? I dunno…_ Pulling herself together against the deepening throes of desperation, she carelessly walked to the door behind the counter, proceeding with the claw end of the hammer, when suddenly she felt a deep gaze behind her.

The engineer froze; hammer still in the wall ahead of her. A deep, reverberating growl, plucked at the little hairs on the back of her neck, making her inadvertently shudder. She quickly sucked in a breath as she turned. Yellow eyes glowered at her in the admonishing dark; a shape crouched haphazardly on the countertop.

"Shit" she whispered to herself, in wide eyed fear.

A sound that was distinctly human and yet not so, rended through the fragile silence. The mass of the creature that was perched on the countertop ripped forward through space, deadly arms pulled forward capture his prey. Hannah attempted to pull the hammer from the wall, and in desperation, cried out and gave a final pull. A deadly pirouette from her and her extended hammer cracked into the skull of the beast. A cry launched itself from its degenerate lungs, yet she had no time to look where it landed. Shocked at what she had done, she ran as fast as her fatigued body would allow. She quickly skimmed through the metallic doors, and pushed necessary buttons to close it.

Her breath hitched violently as it did nothing. "C'mon! C'mon!" She breathed huskily, attempting one more time. Something inside the canteen began to move, drunk with injury. A roar of pain and anguish signaled the coming of her unwanted opponent. She drew in a breath to attempt to calm herself, yet she shook deeply with each move. The door finally managed to slide shut. Hannah stumbled away, in relief, as she was suddenly safe. A tremor from the metal made her start and she ran again, none too sure if it would hold him, or if their little skirmish had disturbed others.

Her lungs were none too happy with her as she pulled around corner after corner. She almost seemed to skid after each turn, the metal appearing slick against her boots. She quickly skidded to a halt as three shapes loomed ahead of her. They paused, as they appeared to ascent to one another that this, indeed, was prey. She cursed under her breath, tears pricking themselves into existence at her eyes. She turned quickly, struggling against the sluggishness of her body. Her hands slid across the slick surfaces of the walls to steady herself. She could almost feel their hot breath on her back as she pulled across one last corridor. A despairing smile cut her face.

There it was. The door to the hangar bay.

Something sharp rended itself deeply into her back. A gasp exclaimed itself from her throat as she crashed into a wall, tripping over her own feet. Her head bounced off the plastic wall, confusing her. The engineer felt a quick snap as she fell to the floor. The strange euphoria of shock flooded her mind, as hitched cries of pain and panic escaped her throat. Her dizzying sight trailed over to her hammer in a far corner near the door. She struggled to pull herself up towards her weapon, her hands slipping in the blood that dripped freely from the new made wound. Strong arms grabbed her from behind attempting to pull her backwards. A deep strain of panic flooded her head: she only knew one that thing and that was to flee with every cell of strength she had left in her body. She screamed, kicked, did just about anything to wrench herself from the painful grasp of her captor.

Hannah felt sharp teeth graze against her shoulder, and a mere fact did her mind. She quickly reached into one of her many pockets, as attempting to struggle free. Thankfully, her sweat acted as a grimy lubricant as she pulled itself nearly free from its grasp. Hannah quickly moved her arm, and gritted her teeth against the sharp pain of her leg. A spark of hope filled her eyes as she procured the grey remote control. With one last pull, she freed herself in the direction of the door. She gingerly, in spite of her leg, pressed herself against the doorframe, and pressed the button as hard as she could. Red phaser fire erupted from above the left and right corners of the wall. Screams of pain flung themselves out of the beasts. The young engineer nearly felt her heart erupting with the phasers. One by one they loped off in defeat, the last of them screaming at her in rage before heading off with the rest.

A frightened sigh cut through her, pressing the button once more when they were finally out of sight. Her head lolled back against the metal exterior of the door. The engineer's gaze eventually landed on one of the phasers; she was glad to have rigged them there. Yet a tinge of sadness and frustration pulled at her. Again, she had failed to procure precious water. An angry fist pummeled the ground, as tears mixed with her blood, her sweat. Hannah had given everything she had; yet it still wasn't good enough. She was going to die here, she was sure of it. "Dammit, Hannah. Think of Andrey…"

Another deep breath exhumed itself from her as she attempted to stand. Tendrils of pain flared in her leg as soon as she put weight on it. A strangulated cry flung from her lips as she pressed against the door, frustrated tears gently coursing their way through the grime. She shook her head, seeing the black spots signaling her body attempting to shut down. Her fingers feebly pressed the buttons for the door as she entered, and continued the same routine.

The engineer practically dragged herself across the room to a shuttle, more or less flung herself at the floor, and the vermillion faded into deep hues of black.

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_AN: Don't worry our favourite crew will be in the next chapter ^^. Also…for das fight scenes, I believe "Brand X – Unstoppable", "Two Steps from Hell – Sons of War", and "Trailerhead – Emoyrean Mercenaries" are good to listen to. Lemme know if you find anything else._


	2. Resilience

_AN: Hey guys! Thanks for all the reviews and support! Here is another chapter (and a long one at that…maybe by my standards XD). Anyway, here it is. Oh! And also, I give credit to St. Valentine for the _"Russians are real men!"_ phrase, and for her making me put Chekov's accent in…it just…wouldn't have been the same. To which I am dreadfully sorry if I get it wrong. I tried my best. OKAY! I'll shut up now._

**Chapter Two: Resilience**

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"Damnit, Chekov! Get your sorry Russian ass outta that chair!"

The young ensign was drawn out of his mathematical reverie. He didn't even need to turn to know whose strident voice it was. In the past, he would have acted rather abashedly towards the doctor, yet, since he knew him a bit better, an aggravated sigh, followed by a few silent Russian curses, was all he did. He quickly sent his work off to the energizing team and his eyes slipped closed for a brief moment. Things had been rather tense these past few hours, and he didn't feel that the doctor was helping things at all. Chekov felt was the brunt of the doctors abuse, and wasn't too keen on that fact. He wasn't a grease monkey; he was an ensign, and a brilliant one at that. He knew, for a fact, that it was also because of his Russian patronage. He felt that everyone he had encountered thus far, in Starfleet, just…didn't care about where they were from. Chekov found this to be rather pathetic. If everyone else were Russian, they'd definitely share his sentiment. He turned his chair so that he faced piercing blue eyes and the classic asymmetrical brow of Bones McCoy.

"Misteer McCoy. I vas onlee recalcoolating ze Cygnus' trajektory. Eef I

hedn't--"

"Well you're done now, right?". The young navigator turned to look back at his work, more so to escape the steely gaze of the doctor. This attitude was insufferable to work under. Though the doctor wished to rush headlong into this mission, time was of the essence, time to make sure they didn't end three feet outside of the ship's hull, freezing and asphyxiating to death in less than fifteen seconds. Chekov liked being alive; after all, he was sure he was a great asset to the crew. No one was a lighting calculator like he was. McCoy was about to pull the nineteen year old from the chair, yet Chekov stood before he even laid a finger on him. The boy straightened his shirt and nodded "Vell, I em now…sir." The last word was laced with venom so thick that his compatriots turned and looked at the scene.

Bones, partially at a loss of what to do, glared at him and spun on a heel, motioning him forward "Well, c'mon then! You've already wasted a good chunk of my time!" Chekov waited for a moment in sheer frustration. He clenched and unclenched his jaw briefly before heading after the doctor

"Yes, sir." The ensign managed to say with great difficulty.

As they exited the lift, (which seemed like days, in the way that Bones was staring the young Ensign down), they stepped into the tumultuous activity of the crew. Another mustard uniform traversed Chekov's vision. "Hello, boys. What took you so long?"

"Sorry, Captain. I was just tryin' to pry Ensign Chekov away from his…calculations." Bones took a withering glance back at Chekov. Another blow to his Russian pride, he "tsked", trying to ignore it as best he could. Kirk had a smile placed on his face as the lift doors hissed shut. He pressed a button as he regarded the two of them, nearly laughing.

"C'mon, McCoy. Lighten up a little, will ya?" Kirk's charm almost seemed to resound through the fragile shell of the lift. Before the doctor could even formulate a reply, Chekov quickly blurted out, "Keptain, kuld ju plees restate ze reeson vy I vill accompany ju? I do not excel et physical feats. So…vy me?" The last portion Chekov was rather sorry to admit; yet he found that it actually gave him character for doing so. At least he was admitting that he wasn't good at everything. Unlike _some _people…Chekov visibly snarled at Bones.

Kirk was about to answer when he felt a sharp glance from his right. The doctor, with his wonderful, nurturing ways, managed to answer him adequately enough: "Have you forgotten that you're Russian, boy?"

Chekov placated a most exquisite look of boredom on his face "Eef ju ar referreeng to my eckting as trenslator on zis meesion, zen, no, I heven't."

"Damn right, you wouldn't," McCoy crossed his arms over his chest, regarding the wall a bit too intently, briefly attempting to take up Chekov's accent, which sounded more French than anything "Russia zis, and Russia zat! And I suppose the saying 'Rome wasn't built in a day' was coined in Russia, huh?"

"Gentlemen, please." Kirk gave them a bemused glance before the lift doors slid open. McCoy's face began draining of that purple hue that seemed to take residency under his skin as of late. Chekov, on the other hand, chewed his lower lip with disdain on the very fact that he was attacking his culture, his motherland. _The_ Motherland. The young ensign drew in a deep breath. Russians were the better men; though they defended their patronage with great vigor, they knew when to stop. Chekov assured himself that being petty at the moment would certainly not be helping his situation. After all, what would Captain Kirk think? Better to be "mature" and stick Doctor McCoy with the penknife later. The bright entrance of the energizing room awaited them.

"Pardon, me, Keptain Quirk, but vould zee Cygnus computer translate for ju?" Chekov queried, following closely behind.

Kirk had already reached the energizing pad and shook his head "Lieutenant Uhura tried to assess contact within the vessel, but apparently the ship's computer isn't very responsive. After all, if we're also going through files, we won't be too good at reading Russian."

"Cyrillic, sir. Ees zee name of our written lenguage." The Ensign just about blurted out. He was about to say something when Kirk nodded.

"There, you see? It's perfect." Kirk's visage tracked McCoy's, who glowered, yet Chekov did not see this as his gaze fell on the bright smile of Montgomery Scott. The young ensign smiled back; a man he could truly respect. Though the Scotsman and the Russian had their differences, he seemed to be a man proud of his heritage. And what wonderful stories he had too, of sullen and beautiful landscapes, pouting greenery and low hanging clouds. Chekov promised himself that he'd go to that place, since all he really knew was the cold, looming horizon of the Urals and, in summer; the fresh plains of the steppe in burnished gold; and the deep, crystalline waters of the Volga. He couldn't help but smile that was kindled in the pink of his lips.

"Well we're wasting time by talking not saving innocent lives." Those piercing blues refracted their light on the ensign and he blinked. Chekov was now reddened both with embarrassment and anger. The Ensign was very aware of the fact that he wasn't a child anymore. He knew he was lucky to have joined Starfleet at a young age and to have been part of the crude christening of the Enterprise. But two years had passed, and he had hoped that it had at the very least, changed their opinion of him. He wasn't so sure about Bones. These calculations were very important, otherwise, a mere fraction off and they'd end up in five feet to the left of the ship, dead already. Smart enough to know not to argue, as this had happened some times before, Chekov clenched his jaw and nodded.

Montgomery Scott had the open mouthed look of sheer indignation placated serenely across his face. McCoy gave him a look and sniffed, grabbing the strap of his bag for comfort as he made his way to the pad. "Damnit, man! What're you waiting for?"

"Scotty" (as he was affectionately known) quirked an eyebrow in his direction and gave Chekov a sympathetic glance, "Don't mind him, lad. He's just very passionate about his work."

"Are we finished talking about my mannerisms yet? 'Cause I don't got all day, and I'm sure those survivors on board don't either." McCoy nearly bellowed, and the engineers that assisted the head engineer looked a bit petrified.

A sarcastic grin encompassed Scotty's features as Chekov entered the circumference of the pad. He gave the young Ensign an encouraging wink, which did actually make him feel slightly better. "What the doctor ordered."

The Ensign heard the familiar harmonious ringing in his ears as everything began to turn a white with bright yellow hues.

The contrast was nearly sickening, and blinding for that matter. Chekov suddenly felt the heat flare up around him, like being suddenly placed in an oven and having the door shut on them. He felt a burr of frustration prick the recesses of his mind, "Vell, doctor, eef I vere Russian or not, I beliewe eet vouldn't matter enyvay." The darkness consumed them entirely, despite the long tendrils of vermillion etching themselves into the dark. It was only so much light, and bad at that. The noisy thrum of the backup generators emanated throughout the cavernous hull of the docking bay, making their existence known cacophonously. The Ensign, being from a particularly cool climate, was not at all adjusted to this sort of heat. The abrupt shift in temperature was staggering, and he didn't want to stay any longer that he had to. McCoy sighed deeply, and probably would have given him another staggering look had the darkness revealed such iconic frustration "Dammit, boy! I'm a doctor, not a fortune teller!

"Well," Kirk glanced to Bones, attempting to put their quarreling aside "I guess we should start looking for any survivors. I mean…that's what you're here for right?" Chekov's frustration eased a bit, knowing that the snide doctor was whirling in uncertainty. The Ensign's fingers pulled at the now uncomfortable black turtleneck, as the doctor cast his gaze about, a beam of a flashlight aiding his visage further. Abandoned husks of shuttles lay nestled within their shells of darkness, like sleeping giants.

"Well…I doubt that there's gonna be anyone here. If there was, they'd already have escaped by now…" Even as they began to turn their attention to the nearby door, a very loud clank emanated from the far reaches of the room, refracting across the walls to their ears. Chekov felt his insides convulse at the sudden disturbance of the monotony of their environment. Then he shook himself. _Stop being a coward! What is there to be afraid of? It's nothing…and you've got the Captain…and the doctor _– He thought reluctantly - _Steel yourself. After all, Russians are real men! _After a few moments of straining in the dark, it came again; hammer against steel, shrill and ardent. At once, phasers were drawn, the red glow giving them an even sleeker look. Pavel despised them, even though they were necessary at the moment, and, yes, did make him feel a bit safer but he did not prefer violence, only because he wasn't terribly good at combat. The captain preceded first, cautiously as usual, his supple frame silhouetted in an abstraction of red. "Identify yourself." He spoke softly.

The young navigator and doctor were attempting to scan the surrounding area as much as they could for life forms, but the sweltering darkness hid within its secrets, against the prying beams of their flashlights. All three men had placed themselves carefully on the sides of surrounding shuttles, waiting for another response.

Something stirred in the darkness. A sigh of pain.

Chekov abruptly shone his flashlight beam in the vicinity of the noise. A leg stuck out from the helm of a shuttle. "Hello?" He ventured, meekly almost, before McCoy rushed over to the owner of the leg. Kirk did as well, but knew well enough to stay out of the good doctor's way.

"Dammit, boy! Light!" Bones rasped. Chekov advanced slowly as the sickly beam cast shadows over the doctor and the survivor. Despite the fact he wasn't too keen of being ordered around, the ensign was curious himself.

A girl, not so much older than himself as it would seem, lay limp against the shuttles' exterior. Dark hair that was once firmly tied back, hung limply at her shoulder in broken waves. Her tank was soaked with sweat. McCoy checked her vitals, as she appeared to be showing some sign of life. Her head lulled back and forth across the smooth surface of the metal. She seemed to react to the light slightly as she gently raised her hand to block the invading beams from her eyes.

"She's severely dehydrated." Bones was accompanied by the light repetitive hum of the tricorder. The tone of his voice suggested that if they had arrived a minute too late, she could have died. He touched her leg for a moment and the girl sparked to life. A cry of pain was exhumed from her being, yet she choked it back as best she could. Bones continued quickly, "and a badly bruised fibula. Least y' didn't break it." The doctor moved the cerulean light over her shoulder, and made a short grunt, as if querying what was wrong with her.

Chekov was rather envious that he was only the torchbearer as the doctor interrogated her. An angry sigh blew through the porches of his nostrils. Yet he was curious about this girl. McCoy had moved her forward slightly exposing her right shoulder blade. Thin, precise lines traced their way down her back. A pang of sorrow resounded somewhere in the depths of his heart. He suddenly found himself sincerely hoping that she was going to be all right. Kirk crouched and tried to look in her eyes as she still recovered from the pain, now her shoulder being wrapped by Bones. "Got a name, miss?"

"…Ebonfield…Hannah Ebonfield. Engineer...Do you have any water…please? And can we get out of here?" It almost appeared that it took every ounce of her strength to even repeat her own name. Her voice would have been very pleasant, had it not been for her ragged vocal chords. McCoy nodded quickly and rummaged through his bag. He handed her a bottle of water and in earnest, she quickly gulped it down. The men seemed a bit surprised at her thirst; then again, they hadn't known how long she had been there.

The back of a damp hand drew across her mouth, brushing any stray tendrils of water away from her lips. She nodded to the doctor "Thank you…"

McCoy looked at the Captain, nearly pleadingly. "Captain, we need to get her out of here. She needs intensive care." Bones looked deeply at her, as if attempting to keep her grounded with his gaze "Y'can tell me more about how you got that wound when we get back, alright?" She nodded slowly.

Kirk nodded. "Right you are." He touched his Starfleet icon on his chest. "This is Captain Kirk to the bridge. One to beam up." The only response was silence, and a shadow drew doubtful lines across the Captain's face "Scotty. Do you read?"

"Damn…so they've already done it, huh?" Hannah rasped as she struggled to her feet, and leaned against the warm shuttle, already looking like she was about to collapse. McCoy attempted to help her, but she looked like she was about to shove him off, that was, if she had the strength to do so. Chekov had to suppress a smile. He already liked her just for that meager reaction. It was now his turn to look like a functioning member of the group. "Vat… exectly heve zey done?" The girl looked up almost immediately at Chekov's deeply inlaid accent. One that she seemed to recognize all too well. A smile gently cut the curves of her lips, and it filled him with pride. A good thing for an American to be exposed to it in Starfleet. Maybe that's what McCoy needed anyway.

He was brought back to the current conversation at hand as the girl began pressing the cool bottle against her wrists and neck, shuddering at the temperature shift. She pocketed it and shook her head. "They've scrambled our frequency. The computer's a mess…" An aggravated sigh resonated through her being. "I just…don't know what to do anymore." Kirk scanned the docking bay, almost looking for answers. "Well…can't we just go to the engine room? I mean, it'd be the logical thing." A smile tinged the captain's face, only to be covering it a moment later, when he remembered Hannah didn't understand. He sighed and looked around "…Inside joke."

However, Chekov accented, nodding at the captain, then looking to the girl for a response, her face half cloaked in shadow. A light scoff emitted from her, as a sarcastic eyebrow popped heavenward. "D'ya seriously think I'd still be here if I were able to go to the engine room?" That tone suddenly faded, and an odd hush overtook her. Despite the darkness, the fear registered well to the young Ensign as she looked at the captain then to the door. She sucked her lips in, baring the already tender flesh with her teeth; a stray trail of moisture lined her face. The young Ensign couldn't tell if it was a bead of sweat or perhaps a trail of lucid emotion crossing the desert of her skin.

"You don't know what they're like." There was deep-set emotion in her voice. Not only fear, but remorse, and confusion. Chekov's brow furrowed deeply as he despairingly wished to have the key to unlock the engineers mind, wanted to put her at ease. A response fell from his mouth, "Leesten. Ve are 'ere to 'elp. I know ve mey not look like much, but ve are wery powerful –" He could feel McCoy cueing the eyeroll, but he cleared his throat inwardly and ignored it. "-Ve need to know vat happened to zem." She took a mouthful of water in between sentences, so it seemed a time until she was able to respond. She shook her head, dark hair flying this way and that.

"I wish I knew…" She paused and looked at him, as if wanting to call him something but couldn't. Chekov straightened immediately and shirked the intense glower that Bones McCoy was forcing in his direction with a severe eye roll. The Russian boy stood proudly, having been addressed first; blushed even. "Ensign Pavel Andreievich Chekov, at your service." Her face lightened slightly at the display. Chekov noted her lips part slightly, as if of want to say something, but didn't. They closed, and with that, so did their first contact. She turned as Bones began speaking. "I'm Doctor Leonard McCoy."

"Captain Kirk." The captain replied, nodding briefly. The girl grinned briefly wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her hand.

"Good to finally meet you all. Kinda strange, but…." She looked at the door once more and sighed. "I guess we can't really do anything else, but go to the engine room." The engineer finally set off, limping quite successfully, faster than the members of the Enterprise could imagine. Chekov saw Bones raise a hand in attempt to stop her, yet she continued on. There were a few times she almost fell or had to stop yet she finally reached the door. Chekov liked her spirit. Though she seemed to live in fear, she pressed

on, regardless of the consequences. He liked to think that it had been being in the company of Russians. McCoy definetly needed to join this program.

She leaned against the frame. Kirk reached her first, squinting with curiosity, as McCoy and Chekov brought up the rear, and the flashlights. She nodded thankfully to Chekov for the light, as shadows gave way to sickly beams. He noticed that her eyes were inquisitive swirls of green and brown; they appeared to be ever changing. He found something odd in that, something alluring; Chekov understood change, but too much never helped anyone. He thought of near ancient Russian history of the October Revolution, and how he'd learn more about this girl, before he was pulled back to the conversation again by Kirk's musings. "So…When'd'ja loose power?"

The engineer gingerly slid the claw end of the hammer into a panel and jerked it open, giving out a small grunt as the weight on her legs shifted uncomfortably. She then began punching numbers into a keypad, and slid the hammer into a tool loop on her jumpsuit and her eyes darted back to the Captain before continuing. "Maybe a few days? I

dunno…it's hard to tell without sunset or rise." She huffed sarcastically, then seemed to regret it.

Chekov seemed to notice that she was kept avoiding the questions about the crew, yet still persisted. "But, Miss Hannah, vat about zee crew? Ees important—"

"Boy, why can't you keep yer mouth shut?" McCoy jumped on the end of Chekov's sentence. The young ensign heavily resented being called boy, yet he swallowed his words. Hannah turned from her work and rested against the door.

"No…it's important. You should know. I mean, you're here…right?" A sigh broke through her lips, an emotional preface to her trying tale "The USS Cygnus' purpose was to discover and catalogue new species. I mean…that's what Starfleet does. Anyway, about…a month ago, we arrived at a planet, which they later named Epsilon Five. They brought up samples, things that the scientists had never seen before. But…something—" She paused, at the sudden hitch in her throat "—there was an infection. An…illness that they couldn't identify. It was only a matter of time before everyone in the ship…" She broke off, and limped back to the pad, pressing silver buttons with her short fingers.

Chekhov felt such honor at the engineer having been so touched by the Russian crew. He wondered if she could speak his mother tongue. Yet another question, more appropriate lingered from his mouth "Are zey all dead?" she signaled for them to cover their flashlights, and she pressed a final button. The bleak red-stained doors opened with nary a noise. She turned to Chekhov; a sad softness encompassed her eyes, as did a cold harsh fear. It almost seemed she was afraid to breathe, even.

"Dead…I wish they were…"

_AN: Cliffhanger! Dun dun dun! Hopefully…they'll get out alive…hopefully._


	3. Labyrinth

_AN: Sorry for the hiatus guys! My job has crazy hours (like…twelve to fourteen a day. I mean, I've been getting off early, but soon :weep: ), anyway, for those of you that have pointed out certain errors to me (and have done so in a wonderfully constructive fashion), thank you very VERY much! (you know who you are ^^). Please continue to do so, and I will attempt to fix it when I can. And thanks again for those of you whom keep returning to read this pathetic story XD. I hope it entertains you…uh what else. OH! If you also want music to accompany your reading, look up "Beshem" on youtube and then look for "Epic Music" as a playlist. I am aware that if one puts urls in such a document, it gets strange, so yeah, I'll tell you this way. If you have any suggestions on music, lemme know ^^. Alright, I'll shut up now._

**Chapter Three: Labyrinth**

* * *

The four figures entered the shadow-stained halls; vermillion threads being the only light source that seemed to beckon them to their destination. The heat receded only slightly, yet that made everything far more uncomfortable, stuffy and quiet, which betrayed the visage of its sleek interior. Though the engineer appeared to have many doubts, Chekov seemed to feel at home on the Cygnus. Everything was printed neatly in his mother language, and it made him smile. To have known that his people had gone so far. His confidence soared even further knowing that at least three crewmembers of the enterprise would escort the injured engineer back to their ship. Blue eyes quickly glanced backwards. How difficult could things be? Sure, it was dark, and a little too warm (more so than he was willing to admit), yet what was the engineer afraid of? There had been no evidence of such terrifying and maddening entities wrapped in ebon fingers. Dehydration did much to torment its victim, with grandiose hallucinations, of whispers in the dark. He wanted to turn to Hannah and tell her that she was in good hands, yet the silence choked back his words. Then again, what reason had she to lie? She seemed trustworthy enough and even more so by the fear that seemed to cling most visibly to her form. Yet he had heard stories of such betrayals.

The only evidence of the doors sliding quietly shut was the industrious churning of the backup generator disappearing completely behind them. Though it was dark, a quick glint caught Chekov's eye. That hammer seemed to be an extension of her right arm, yet he was curious as to why she didn't use something that was a bit more technologically advanced. He didn't pay it much mind while he was advancing confidently through the hallway, albeit a bit loudly, as if everything were perfectly normal. Yet he stopped at the weight of a weak hand on his shoulder, nearly startling him. Hannah tried to pull him back, but she stumbled forward, bumping into him. Before he could answer the engineer quickly put a finger to his lips, shaking her head, as if the slightest sound would evoke something within the dark that had sharp and pointy teeth. The Russian ensign turned to her and softly smiled, almost as if to say, 'Now, now, there isn't anything to be frightened of'. Yet for some reason, she couldn't be consoled. The symptoms of dehydration entered his mind again.

Until a deep growl permeated the darkness in deadening throes.

A shudder cut through Hannah, both instantaneously and visibly. Her breath contracted, as her hands grew taut over the hammer, ready to strike anything in her way. A deafening silence invaded their pause, enveloping the four of them. Kirk, seeming to sense no immediate danger, whispered within the depths of the silence almost impulsively, "Now that didn't sound too friendly."

A sound, that was partially human and clearly something else, flung itself across the narrow hallway. Chekov's skin prickled at the horror that lay somewhere in its home of the darkened expanse. He noticed that the engineer had seemed to forget that they were there. She clutched at her head in seeming frustration, in a futile attempt to steel herself.

Whatever lay in the dark was now loping towards them, quick thuds against the scuffed carpeting. The Captain, though almost knowing it was fruitless, as he had his phaser drawn, tried to pull away the depths of the darkness with his gaze.

"This is Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S Enterprise. Identify yourself. We mean you no harm" There was no pause in advancement, even as flashlights were turned on once more. Chekov though he heard McCoy make a sound of discontent, but wasn't too sure as the…thing suddenly stopped, hands going up to block the fastidious beams. It was hard to see within the shallow length of the beam, yet it appeared somewhat green and maybe had thorny protrusions or…something.

"What the hell is that thing?" A reply seemed to slip from the Doctors lips out of sheer curiosity.

"So much for negotiations." Kirk sighed.

The green light of a phaser snapped through the dark, flaring into the beast. It howled disparagingly in pain, as it still loped forward. A thorny arm lashed out at the engineer, attempting to either knock her to the floor, or to rend her throat open. Hannah was frozen to the spot, agape in fear, as a silent scream traced itself into the contours of her face. Chekov felt as if time were a slowly freezing ice flow, as tendrils of light grew weak around its icy perimeter. He quickly reached for the engineer, turning her into the protection of his lank form, as another bolt from a sleek phaser cut quickly through its hand. The engineer struggled fiercely in his grasp, seeming to be in shock, her cries resounding across the sleek interior of the hallway. A note of frustration cut through Chekov. He had just saved her life, and _this_ was how he was getting repaid? He gently shook her; attempting to bring her back to reality, which seemed to be working, only too slowly.

The Captain cocked his head to the side, as if to address the Russian ensign "Chekov! See what you can do in the engine room! We'll take care of this!"

Though the engineer was still breathing erratically, Chekov had seemed to calm her down significantly. He yelled over phaser fire, attempting to make eye contact in the darkened corridor. "Hannah! Ve must get to ze engine room! Ju need to pull jourself together!" He realized how "encouraging" that really sounded, and shook the embarrassment from his conscience. That was the best he could come up with? Really?

He received a shaky nod from her in the dark, as if to tell her self to pull it together and took in a deep breath. She took off down the adjacent hallway, Chekov quickly following behind. She wasn't terribly fast, hindered by her injury, but she appeared to have a spryness about her that was comforting; if they were in a tight spot, he was sure they could escape.

With the captain's orders, he began to feel more like a member of the crew. He was entrusted with Hannah's safety, to make sure that she was left unscathed, unharmed. A proud swell beamed in his heart as they reached their destination. He would be certain to protect her at whatever cost.

As she inserted the claw end of the hammer in a plate on the side of the door, Chekov was rudely pulled from his proud reverie. A shriek that scraped the back of the ensign's throat cut across the length of the ceiling and dropped only a meager few feet away from them. He quickly pulled his phaser on the beast, as it loped in earnest towards them, his skin prickling with adrenaline.

"Hannah, please, ve do not have much in zee vay of time…" Chekov urged, feeling suddenly sick at the thought of combat. He attempted to keep himself calm as best he could, feeling he could break any moment.

"I'm workin' on it! _Chyort voz'mi_!" The engineer loosely fumbled with some wires, her breath quite clearly audible.

The Russian felt his annoyance with her was increasing rather quickly, to his dismay. Not only did he feel that being patronized wasn't helping, but he thought that maybe she could expedite things a bit more. After all, she had been working on a Russian starship for quite sometime. Illustrated well with the "Damn it". Chekov gritted his teeth as he could almost feel its base intents from its gaze shoot straight into his own dialated pupils. As a piercing scream from the beast cut sharply across the Ensign's eardrums, he felt a soft arm wrap deftly around his waist and pull him into the confines of the engine room. The doors quickly hissed shut in front of the agitated beast, howling in fury.

The Russian ensign leaned against the warm metal of the door, exhaling quickly in short pants, his heart sliding back down his throat. Hannah was pressed against a wall, doing the same, the red light a bit more intense, as was the sound of the backup generator. The engineer limped closer to him. He suddenly noted that she smelled not necessarily terribly…well, maybe a little. But sharp notes of orange and bergamot seemed to prick his nostrils deftly. Yet there was an overwhelming smell of fuel that was present about her. She looked up at him, a dubiousness crossing her features. The Ensign wished that the red light would siphon itself away into the blackness, so that his pounding headache would go with it. And he wished slightly to see more of her, more so for whom he was really talking to…and rescuing.

"So…I guess that makes us even. And you're welcome, by the way." A smile pulled at the corner at her lips briefly. He couldn't help but smile back, and decided to use a phrase that the Captain seemed rather fond of, "Don't mention eet."

An impact across the, now, fragile metal door, made the two jump and Chekov pulled quickly far and away, nearly stumbling over her. Hannah nearly seemed to jump out of her skin, yet she remained firm and unmoving. An air of frustration quickly took over her, as stared at the doorframe, her fear seeming to disappear in place of anger or annoyance. "C'mon."

They quickly launched down stairways, the engineer glad to have the support of railings. They reached their destination as she quickly knelt by a dormant turbine; her form still appearing to be a bit shaky. Chekov trained his phaser on the darkness, none too sure if he would be able to protect them both. Yet he knew he had to; he had to keep her alive, because the Captain willed it. He wanted to prove to the Captain, more specifically to that blasted doctor, that he was well worthwhile keeping around. The ensign ground his teeth and looked over his shoulder briefly down to her work. "How much time vill you need to take, Miss Hannah?" A surprised, yet nervous laugh startled him, yet the ensign still watched the darkness.

"Uh…just Hannah. And not too long, just gotta…" Suddenly they were plunged into a perfect blackness.

"Fuck" was uttered in that brief silence, and Chekov would have laughed at the iconic comedic timing had he not doubted that they were alone. His throat felt a bit tighter as began fumbling for his flashlight too earnestly, the quick effects of nyctophobia setting in. The young ensign suddenly heard a sharp clang resound across the floor, which he then recognized as the object he sought. A cross between a sigh and a gasp escaped his lips quickly followed by a sharp, whispered curse. Not only because of the loss of the object that would restore his visage, but of the level of volume that might cost them their lives. Saliva quickly dropped down his esophagus, as he sucked in breath desperately, feeling the sudden, cloying fingers of darkness wrapping about his throat. His skin prickled as he began to feel eyes on him from nearly every direction. Chekov heard her utter a couple of more curses, several in his mother tongue, before there was a clang of metal against boot and the turbine whirred magnificently. The light flashed on almost instantaneously as Chekov's headache amplified. It was like having a poker jammed through his ear, yet he wasn't aware of it. He drew his hand away from his face to look over to the engineer.

She was relatively short, and slender, yet had a crudeness to her appearance. The thick-strapped tank that she wore was assumed to have been white at…one point or another. It was now stained with oil and sweat, even some blood, yet he didn't question where it could have come from. The rest of her burnt red jumpsuit was tied off at her waist. She was somewhat tanned, and her dark hair turned out to be a bit more reddish than he had expected. He hadn't been aware of it, most likely because of the red lighting. She was actually rather attractive. Probably more so with a shower. A seemingly guilty smile tinged her lips and various smudges of soot on her face puckered "Sorry…didn't mean to blind ya."

The two stood looking at each other for a while, and the ensign wasn't entirely sure what to say, running a hand over his unruly hair. She made a curt noise as she proceeded to launch herself down the next few staircases. Was her face a bit redder? It was hard to tell, more so because from being so suddenly drawn from their last environment. Chekov made a few strangulated noises before a question formed itself from the tangled mass of his thoughts "Vhere are ju going?"

The ensign hurried after her, afraid she might fall at the rate she was hurtling down the stairs. Hannah turned quickly, her messy hair whirling about her shoulders as she turned to look at him "Just gotta get power back to some more parts of the ship. No worries." She smiled at him. Chekov felt a current run deeply in him, and he wasn't entirely sure what it was. He shook its ghost off quickly, as he managed to catch up to her. As she already seemed to be deeply imbedded within her work, Chekov began to wonder if this were all real or not. It was very sobering to have encountered such terrifying odds; he had personally never fought anything, yet he thought that he would be more than capable against any of these creatures, easily. And for this to have been a Russian ship, he almost wished that someone else to talk to. Shaking his head, Chekov would try a Russian conversation out of the girl when he had the chance.

Hannah groaned, suddenly slumping over the sleek turbine. A current of fear and urgency cut through him as he rushed over to her. The engineer wiped her brow, as she finished her work quickly "Ar ju alright?" Chekov suddenly found it pointless awaiting an answer as he pulled Hannah's canteen from her form, uncapping it, and handing it to her. She gratefully took down several gulps, and handed it to him, encouraging him to do the same, hazel locking with blue. "It's just…a little too warm in here."

A short laugh murmured from the young ensign, another picked up phrase from his American crewmates stumbling from his lips "Ju can say zat again…"

Hannah grimaced, getting to her feet quickly. A hand cut through her tangled locks briefly, assessing her work, as if perusing a letter. With a nod, she opened the power flow to the generator, turning a winch at the top. And then something large dropped to the floor.

Both of them halted and Chekov whirled around. One of those things was staring him in the face. A strong, grimy hand flew to his throat, and lifted him off the ground. The ensign, shocked and asphyxiating, merely struggled in mid-air. He thought he heard a scream, half in fear, half in frustration. He suddenly felt himself weightless, hurtling backwards into a none too soft wall. The ensign's head connected blissfully, and his spine arched, soon slumping down the sleek wall.

Dazed and lost amongst a flurry of dark stars, blue eyes slowly escaped their alabaster lids, blinking in confusion. A hand reached out…his hand, attempting to sway their demonic captor from his current pursuit. _Must…protect…must…must keep promise_. Chekov was afraid that she was not able to protect herself. He tried to tell her to flee and leave him behind, yet the words shriveled like ash in the back of his throat. He blinked his eyes, attempting to clear his visage, yet the world remained in abstractions. A dark shape cut in front of the blanket of bright pastels that was now his world, as he lay crumpled in a heap. A sharp crack resounded through the porches of his skull, yet it was muddied by…something. A profusion of sable exploded from an impact as something thudded to the ground. He felt something warm spray his face, like a slap to pull him closer back to reality, and it did somehow. The ensign's hand traced his face briefly to pull away something dark. Before he could form a series of thoughts, the dark shape whirled back around and knelt close to him. It happened all so slowly, as if his head were immersed in luke-warm water. Green-brown eyes stared into his face, concerned. "You alright?"

Hannah was slashed in ribbons of black, as was her face; a trail of it across her cheek, some dripping from her chin. Chekov wasn't sure how to react; yet swallowed and was thankful to have his sight regained. "Ju'we got…err…" a finger floated faceward, pointing on his person where certain things shouldn't have been. She didn't seem to care, as she began attempting her best to see if her new acquaintance was all right. She flashed her fingers in front of the ensign's face "…_chetyre_…" a tired response escaped his lips, and then for clarity "Zat's…"

"Four. Yeah, I know…" was her wry response.

This heat was really beginning to get to him, as was all the running…in the heat. His head lulled against the wall once more, reluctant to continue as if to say _Go on without me_. The engineer sighed through her nose, as if to look past the childish heroics "Look, if I'm able to get through this, you can too. C'mon…" A grimace crossed her features briefly before reaching for his arm to pull him up. Spots danced in front of his visage. His body suddenly reminded him thirty seconds prior of what happened. A hiss crumpled his face as a sharpness carved through Chekov. The boy leaned against the wall briefly before a wail flew through the space between them and…

"Dammit, Pavel! Move!" The equally shrill and panicked voice of the engineer reminded him of the mission he was given. As if awaking from a deep slumber, or finally getting a joke long after it was told, dull slate awoke to bright azure in an instant. He found those terrified eyes; a captive of fear for an eternity. He must not let anything happen to her. He would uphold her perspective of his people for her. His heart swelled with waves of hope, suddenly full, staring back into those eyes. Though there was little said between them, he felt they shared so much. Though urgency crossed her battle taught features, a sudden calm flowed into him. The kind of calm that surgeons suddenly go into when realizing they have to save their patient…or something like that. Suddenly rejuvenated, and phaser drawn, his eyes gazed calmly upon three new forms invading the space. At that very moment, he almost felt the boy in him drift away.

He grabbed for her hand as he tore them both down a stairway, metal jaunting under their boots. Before the question escaped his lips, she answered for him "This way!" An unwavering finger pointed to a lift at the end of the hallway. They both sped down, hoping to evade their horrific adversaries. As they reached the steely doors, Hannah quickly pulled out a key card, with a cable attached, and jammed it into the lift. Chekov had his back turned to the doors, phaser pointed down the hallway. He directed the occasional glance in her direction to see if she had completed her task yet. A screech propounded the open maw of darkness. His brow furrowed. There was naught but sparks as the creature's right knee collapsed under its own weight.

"C'mon…c'mon!" was Hannah's response to the device that was currently lodged in the bulk of the door. Another squeal resumed as the doors to the lift began to give way. Both she and Chekov pulled quickly inside as she desperately pushed the button for the doors to close. A dark shaped loped closer screeching, completely uninhibited. Thankfully the lift doors shut not a moment too late, as something heavily collided with the three feet of metal in front of them. A sigh of relief cut through them both and equally jumped at the sound of Chekov's communicator blaring. A sigh attempted the slowing of his racing heart. "This is Ensign Chekov…"

"Chekov…thanks for getting power back online. Meet us in the medical bay…there's…some really interesting stuff here. Ebonfield still with you?"

A wary hand brushed his damp bangs from his face, and nodded as he looked over to his compatriot. Chest heaving, eyes wild, brow drenched in sweat. "Yes, Captain. She's alright…we vill try to be zere soon as ve can…" The last of the Captain's message slipped from his mind as he watched Hannah's knees buckle. Chekov caught Hannah at the waist as she slipped back into consciousness. As if to answer his question she shook her head "I think I'm…alright…I…" As he let go and she maintained her balance against the lift wall, a concerned look clouded Chekov's brow. A thin black thread trailed itself from her right nostril down the length of her upper lip. The sable colour rang in his memory briefly before saying "Ve shouldn't be here too much longer…"

She nodded and the doors to the lift hissed quietly open. "Medical bay, huh? Not too far from here…" Though it wasn't as bright as the engine room, there was more light than before. And even though there wasn't any immediate threat perusing them, Hannah grabbed hold of Chekov's hand and pulled herself quickly down the hallway. "Almost there…" The ensign thought she murmured; yet he wasn't too sure, as they nearly collided head first into something. She stopped abruptly, hammer at the ready, sending Chekov nearly ground ward. He had his phaser pointed in earnest at the surprised doctor.

"What in the hell…?" Bones began. His face quickly fell to Hannah's, concerned. His eyes quickly darted back to Chekov "She alright?" Before Chekov could respond, the familiar scream filled the hallway once more. Bones quickly pulled Hannah and Chekov zipped in behind her before the doors shut.

_AN: Sorry that took forever to finish…Just needed to get my head straight on a few things. Next chapter should be up…well…I dunno when…but I'll go up, I promise you. _


	4. Greetings

**AN:** _Yep…plowing on ahead. I hate to be a stickler/bitch here, but…reviews please? I mean…it keeps me inspired to know that people are actually reading, and liking what they see. Or maybe…is it a "generational" change? Because back in the day (oy…) we'd always review things, But…now..it just seems there are story alerts and such…I dunno…I'm sorry…I'm silly. * cough *. This isn't my first account, and I started writing on this site since I was eleven/twelve…so yeah…(yeah…not so great LotR fan fiction, there was one there it was a crossover with The Matrix…I'll stop there). As I have gotten very helpful and constructive feedback about Bones, I'll see what I can do about that. XD. Alright…moving on. This particular chapter's gonna be kinda disjointed…_

…_and thank you Cheerio Ninja. 3_

**Chapter Four: Greetings…**

"How long have they been down there?"

Iilya grunted as he repaired a coolant leak. Sure she was a Russian ship, but the Cygnus could have used some repair before they left. Poor girl was like Swiss cheese. Though he understood that they really needed to get a move on, but…Christ, this was insanity. Captain Ignatevitch was really pushing her, when she didn't really need to be, and that's what frustrated him the most. This was the fifth leak in two weeks, and he didn't feel comfortable leaving her unattended. What was so damn important about moving so quickly that they weren't able to be sure that the old bird was airtight? But a sullen presence, and gaze close to his head made his concentration a bit fuzzy. Iilya paused as he thought of perhaps working a bit longer, realized it was fruitless, and pulled himself from under the intricate lacework of pipes. Inquisitive brown and saddened hazel met.

"Hannah…I'm sure he'll come back in one piece."

Since they were in the upper deck of the engine room, it was at least fairly cool. Hannah's sigh made Illya laugh as he pulled himself up. A tall gangly lad of twenty two, and the youngest superior engineer; his face didn't betray the fact he was Russian one bit. He observed his assistant's glum face: she was normally very exuberant (he would say excruciatingly so) and cheerful, yet had such a sarcastic humor, that he couldn't help but find her one of the most strange people he'd ever met. But it was better that way, and he liked her. But now to him, she was being ridiculous. Andrey was of Uzbek blood, and sometimes, even he was surprised by his insurmountable strength to press on even in the most daunting situations. If anyone would survive, it would be him. Iilya knew that both the engineer and the ship's first mate quickly attached themselves to one another platonically. Like…brother and sister. Iilya had personally hoped it would have flourished into something more, because…they would be really, and he meant, really adorable for each other. Maybe there was something he didn't know about; a dormant blossom in the bosom of the young engineer.

She accidentally kicked a pipe when she stood, her hair hanging limply in her face. Iilya's smile melted away into a stoic concern. So it _wa_s serious. It had to be else she wouldn't be this concerned. "They said there was a three in ten chance of survival…"

"Anya" Iilya's nickname for her fluttered between his lips. Her name was pretty close to it anyway. He pursed his lips as he witnessed the flourishing of tears at her eyes at the sordid attempt to comfort her, making the situation more known. If there was one thing that the engineer wasn't good at, it had to be consoling people. It always made him feel awkward, and it wasn't because that he didn't care about people. He just felt that there were better people better equipped with those skills. But he was the only one there, and he knew that if he didn't do something, he wouldn't get the work he needed done without her help. Sure he was first skeptical about Hannah. Everyone was. An American joining an all Russian crew? It was simply unheard of. But she had proven her worth, and wasn't at all like any American he had met. She was humble and kind, and very smart.

"He'll…he'll be okay. Andrey wouldn't do that to you." Iilya almost choked out, checking readings on his datapad. He soon looked zenith-ward as a wrench flew into a nearby wall. A few footsteps, a huff, and a turned back was all he received in reply. Thick brows raised in defensive confusion. Maybe it was eating at her deeper than he thought. Much deeper.

"Anya…"

"…I…can't."

He walked a few more paces towards her. Hannah had never gotten like this, not in the year he had gotten to know her. _Bluntly_ he ground his teeth _put it bluntly_. "Hannah, would Andrey want you to give up so easily on him?"

He almost saw her froze. Iilya almost grinned, then thought it wouldn't be appropriate. His assistant slowly turned, confusion in those red, smudged eyes. It was kind of heartbreaking to see her as such. "…giving—?"

"If you're already so set on him not coming back, then you've already given up, haven't you?" He turned his head in a knowing manner, a little pressed for time. Though he hated seeing her like this, it was the best thing he could do for her right now, even better than he had ever tried for anyone before.

Her visage fell to the floor, her bangs hung in her face. After what seemed an eternity, the engineer's head raised quickly, her tear-stained face making her look rather…unattractive. "You're right…I'm being cranky…"

Iilya tilted his head and blinked in minute confusion "Come again?"

"Cranky?...no....that's not the right word…"

The head engineer almost laughed at the sudden change of things. He just needed to get her distracted, that was all "Well…I mean it works but…"

"Selfish! I mean selfish…" Hannah looked up in surprise, then bashful at her sudden outburst, and soon became aware of how quickly sound travels in these "tunnels". "Sorry…that was loud…"

Iilya couldn't stand it any longer and burst out laughing despite his assistant's confused face. He quickly started apologizing "No…it's not you…just…" He quickly sighed, "Oh…never mind."

"You mean…at my bad Russian?"

"Don't worry. Least you didn't say something like salacious. _Then_ you'd be in trouble."

"Ebonfield…c'mon…wake up." A somewhat familiar voice rang through the vaulted chambers of her ears. She felt like she was submerged in wax, limbs creaking in dispute. Hannah forced her eyes open, shaking her head as she did so, and feeling that the motion might aid her in some way. A flickering light was really the only illumination in the room. The sporadic light would show the contours of the doctor's face briefly before being submerged in shadow once again. A faint green glow caught her eye as the faces of the captain and…Chekov appeared to be quickly looking through files. She groaned as a hand on her back aided her to lean upwards. Something was being said as her head ignited. The engineer felt the flesh of her eyelids crumple in pain, two fingers resting in the center of her forehead. Oh why did she have to be awake?

"…One of zere crew members was brought up…eh…" The ensign's light voice whispered in Russian to be quite sure of how a certain word would translate, then nodded to himself in silent accord "…dormant. Vell, in a few days time."

Hannah's eyes rolled from the top of her skull, gazing at the innards of the Cygnus hanging from the ceiling, splayed across the wall, much like what had happened to the crew. She clamped down, afraid she would enter into a panic soon enough. The stoic, ironical face of the doctor gazed upon her with concern. "You've been experiencing anterior epistaxis" A clouding of the engineers brow brought a sheepish look to McCoy's face. "…Means you've been bleeding from yer nose occasionally. Just don't want you swallowing it is all. It'll make you sick. And that's the last thing you need, huh?" He handed her the familiar water canteen, and, almost instinctively drank. She paused, alarmed at her rudeness, but it couldn't be helped. Green met deep hazel "…Thanks Doctor…McCoy." His name finally returning to her memory. A faint smile appealed at the corners of his mouth "Don't worry about that, I'm just an old, country doctor."

The engineer smiled only to finish the conversation, yet she was far from analyzing her current condition, as her confusion turned deeper. It would make sense, she had been dehydrated, and in this horrid environment for…well, long enough. Too long even. Maybe her nasal passageways became dry? It just didn't make any sense to her. And why was she feeling so wretched all the time? The engineer slowly turned to the captain and Chekov, eyes narrowed out of exhaustion.

"So it's been about a month since they've left Epsilon Five, huh?"

"Yes, sir. Ees interesting how long Anya surwived…"

Hannah quickly turned, and stood from the now uncomfortable sick bay table, eyes fraught with unknown hurt. It appeared that her body seemed to remember that it was dizzy as she leaned against the table, almost seeming to talk to it. She could feel the protective presence of the doctor flitting behind her. Though he was ensuring her well being, she just wished he would leave her alone "How did…? --did'ja forget my name?"

Chekov turned from the terminal, a confused look plastered to his spry face. "Zere is no true "nickname" for Hannah, so…Anya's the closest. Ees only logical…" Chekov grinned nervously, wondering if he had offended her. She shook her head, perhaps in an attempt to clear it. What had gotten into her? It was just a silly name…but Andrey…

"Sorry…just…just a silly coincidence…" The engineer shook her head. A hand was at her elbow, and Hannah choked down the annoyance factor as she did her best to look inquisitive. McCoy motioned for her to sit back down, almost simultaneously wiping his brow of sweat. Hannah obeyed, noting it was probably the best thing to do.

"Alright…well we should transfer all the medical files and get them back to the analytical department. Too bad we can't really get a good look around." Kirk nodded to the ship's pathetic and wounded appearance, smiling half jokingly. Chekov was about to protest, and so was Hannah, but Kirk's face made the two think otherwise. Despite the fact that he was the Captain of the famed Enterprise, he seemed like such a...douchebag. There was really no other way of putting it.

Before she could truly answer with some semblance of a witticism, a flicker of light braised jagged features. Then dark. Eyes widened, heart accelerated. The engineer suppressed an outburst as she turned away from what turned her stomach. A tangle of hair flicked past her shoulder as her gaze hit them, intent with suddenly moving expediently. McCoy looked at her, concerned "Something up?" He looked to where her gaze had quickly had withdrawn from. The doctor shook his head, offering the canteen again. Hannah shakily shook her head; she knew what she saw, this was _not_ a hallucination. She was sure of it. The captain of the Enterprise turned back and nodded with assurance, still making the faulty assumption that their little room was completely safe.

"Sure…we've got everything. Now how about getting out of here?" The three of them grinned, despite the fact they had seen the moving cadavers of the crew. Terror still rang in her heart, and she still trusted her instincts. As she began to hop off the table, a sharp pang fell across her skull. Her legs twisted, and buckled as her body turned into naught but mush. Something warm drew itself across her front lip. And her stomach suddenly felt like it had been displaced somewhere else in her body. She bit back the instinct to retch as a familiar scream erupted behind them. The engineer quickly pulled herself upwards, almost wanting to scream back in vengeance. Yet she felt too ill to do so, as an ill-fated arm reached out blindly, knocking McCoy to the ground. She briefly remembered the captain screaming something, as Chekov promptly grabbed her hand. In her delirious state, she noted other than the crushing pressure of the young ensign's grip, that it was somewhat large, for her little hands to sink into, and strangely cool, and surprisingly soft, compared to her calloused ones. Her stomach hitched quickly at the realization that they were holding hands, and that he was rescuing her. Sure, she didn't really see herself as a damsel in distress, but she couldn't really complain at this point.

The next moment she registered she was back in the hallway once more. She swallowed her bile, suddenly realizing that she was being pulled forcibly by the energetic ensign. Worry seemed to sit upon the youth's face like it had done many times before. Her feet unwillingly stumbled after him. Apathy stirred in her heart, wanting to give up and let the heat take over her festering corpse. But not to become one of them. She nearly blinked in surprise as she saw the doctor and the captain ahead of them, almost…magically. Hannah grimaced as soon as Chekov let go of her hand, urging her forward, as they made their dizzying way back through flickering corridors, the darkness catching up with them continually.

"Wait!" escaped from her lips as they undulated forward across the scuffed carpeting. No one really seemed to listen, and a pang of fear rippled in her heart. What if they were to leave her behind? What if even Chekov did? Hannah choked back a sob. No…they couldn't. They came looking for survivors, but they did get information from the ship clearly valued by the federation. Her gait slowed a bit, as a sudden welling of fear took over her heart. She gulped past a lump in her throat. _Oh god…please…please don't leave me behind, not here…not like this…_

The familiar doorway to the docking bay lay before them, the floor charred with phaser fire. The captain and doctor managed to get past, and Chekov was hurtling after them. A pain in her side flared up as she reached the door. The air suddenly seemed to grow heavy with…she wasn't entirely sure. A smile almost broke across Hannah's face when Chekov turned around, almost seeming to be shaken out of a daze. The ensign's eyes became wide with concern and he started towards her.

Something caught across Hannah's bad ankle, and a scream forced its way out of her lungs. The engineer suddenly registered that she was being pulled back the way she came. Her hands went akimbo and tried to grab anything that might befall her broken trajectory across the hallway. A slippery corner came into her grasp and she held with what little strength resided in her arms. Hazel despairingly searched for blue. A lank form rushing down the hallway towards her sparked a minute flare of hope in her heart.

"Hannah! Hold on!" that same desperation rang clearly in the ensign's voice. She knew that he wanted to make a better impression on…whomever, but she now felt the heartfelt desperation that awoke in him. Something else flared in her heart, yet she was unsure as to what it was.

"Pavel!.P_omogatye_…_pulzhaltza!!"_

Her hands lost their insecure holding. And she slipped back into the gloom. Her heart broke at the heartrending cries that could only come from Chekov.

He crumpled in the flickering hallway. Not only physically, but his heart…He looked down at his hands once again. This was the second time that he let someone slip through his fingers. And he was completely unaware that he had let go of her hand. Maybe it had been too hot, but he registered the blush that crossed her face. It made something inside of him twist pleasingly…but now was not the time to think of such things! What had transpired, he was fairly unsure of. And was still unsure why he failed to pursue her. Something was preventing him of moving forwards…like an invisible crushing wall. He found his feet again. There was still a chance of saving her unlike…He gripped his resolve down quickly as he felt two figures questioningly behind him.

"Chekov…where's Ebonfield?" Blue suddenly enclosed in veils of alabaster at the sound of the doctor's voice. "Did'ja…?"

"_Da_, Doctor…yes. She's…"

There was an uncomfortable pause in the silence. "How could you just…"

"Gentlemen," The relatively cool voice of the captain intervened "We should be running back about five minutes ago if we hope to catch up to her. Not arguing."

Bones McCoy shook his head and sighed, the fight going out of him almost visibly "I just don't understand. I thought I remembered her calling for help. But why didn't we stop?"

Kirk put a hand behind Bones' back, almost urging him to move forward. "Move"

"…Sure, Jim. Whatever you say…"

Chekov's gaze fell floorward, as he seemed to lag a few paces behind his crewmembers, still crushed with the memory of Spock's mother, watching her signal fall into the singularity that became Vulcan. "Eef anything else has happened to her, do ju think she will surwiwe?"

A reassuring hand patted the ensign's shoulder, blue locking with blue. Chekov was quite surprised that McCoy was comforting him now, after what strange moods he'd been in "If she's survived this long…I'm sure she can go a bit longer. We've just gotta get there as fast as we can, right?"

Something stirred in Chekov as he nodded, realizing it was too soon to give up. She needed them, and now. "Aye, Doctor…" A small smile fettered about his lips as they plunged headlong into the darkness.

_WAKE UP_.

She heard a groan flood the silence, which she soon found to be her own. Dark shapes. Chains clinking. Water steadily dripping. Why did her arms ache so much?

Perhaps because they were over her head?

Hannah chanced a look skyward, and grunted as her muscles disapproved of their position. Two arms, which she assumed to be hers, were hanging from…cuffs, maybe? Above her head. _Yep. Above me. Great._ A mad smile almost broke across her face. Things just seemed to get worse and worse that she could just laugh at the unrealistic behavior that was overtaking her body. And where the hell was she?

_YOU FIND SOMETHING…AMUSING, DO YOU?_

…and where the hell was that voice coming from? Normally she would have been afraid, yet her mind was overtaken with shock. She sniffed briefly; something dripped down her chin. Her visage finally cleared as the familiar black of space filled her eyes. The chairs that lay in ruin behind the helm. Captain Ignatevitch's chair…

"Christ…"

Her eyes scanned the dark as best they could, knees attempting to straighten as best they could. But it was very awkward to stand in that position for too long. A few shapes caught her attention…humanoid shapes. She braced for them to come running at her, yet she found them stationary. Lieutenant Alekseeva and Ensign Petrova, their twisted corpses twined with what appeared to be…vines? Maybe? What tears she had left were suddenly spent, as she gripped the chains above her, her rage echoing off the vaulted walls of the bridge.

"What the fucking hell do you want!?" she screamed, when she found she had enough composure to finally say something "Y…you've got all of us, okay?! We're all dead!...or…zombified! Just fucking stop…please…"

_STOPPING? NO. THAT IS NOT AN OPTION._

Hannah's head lifted after momentary silence, not really expecting a response. She had just thought that the voice was…a hallucination. It _was_ really hot in there after all. She tried to stretch her back, but to no avail.

…_AND YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE._

"Well…I figured that. I'm just a mite uncomfortable. Chaining someone to the ceiling, perhaps, isn't the best way to treat guests…or should I say hosts…" She attempted to respond with all the venom she could in her voice. A laugh that seemed more like a growl either echoed through her mind or the room, and regrettably, sent chills resounding through her body. She earnestly sucked in another breath, hoping not to find Andrey's corpse on the floor. "So…this is what you do, huh?"

_KEEPING THE RUSE OF YOUR COMFORT IS QUITE A JOKE, HANNAH EBONFIELD. IT IS ALSO INCREASINGLY CURIOUS HOW YOU HAVE MANAGED TIME AND TIME AGAIN TO ESCAPE OUR GRASP. THOSE INGENIOUSLY PLACED PHASERS HAVE ONLY KEPT YOU SAFE FOR SO LONG._

The engineer grunted in discomfort, attempting to find a more comfortable position, yet there really was no choice other than just…standing there. An annoyed sigh cut through her body as she looked ceilingwards, since it seemed the most appropriate place. "Alright…you've got me…now what. You gonna turn me into one of them?" She looked at the cadavers of the xenolinguist and the ships' pilot, still attempting to hide the lucid sadness that brimmed the edges of her eyes. Those wonderful times in the canteen, how they would help her horrific Russian, not of course forgetting all of the girl talk…

_YOU ARE THE LAST SURVIVING CREWMEMBER ON THE CYGNUS, HANNAH EBONFIELD. YOU HAVE BEEN MARKED, AND WE ALWAYS TAKE CARE OF THOSE THAT HAVE BEEN._

"Oh, sure…" She almost spat. "Sure you take care of them. I can obviously see that…" Another laugh resounded through the hull, as she tugged futilely at her chains.

_THE DEPLORABLE DISEASE, WHICH YOU CALL HUMANITY, EVEN HAS TROUBLE OF TAKING CARE OF ITSELF. WHY, THOSE THAT CAME FROM THE ENTERPIRSE HAVEN'T TAKEN YOU WITH THEM, HAVE THEY? A LITTLE MORE EVIDENCE TO PROVE OUR POINT. _

The engineer clenched her teeth, and bowed her head. So…so it was true. But how could she believe the empty words from a disembodied voice? That…tried to kill her multiple times. They couldn't just leave her behind, could they? Regardless, they weren't here…either they had left…or they were trying to save her. Or they could have been apprehended by the undead crew. The unrelenting cries from Chekov echoed in the porches of her skull. Her breath hitched, as did her heart. Why did she feel so much for someone that she just freakin' met in the past two hours? It almost disgusted her.

"What do you mean by marked?"

_AH…WE THOUGHT YOU MIGHT HAVE CAUGHT ON TO THAT LITTLE BIT SOONER, BUT IT IS SO TYPICAL OF THE HUMAN MIND. _

"Ha ha. You're a real comedian, you…" A cough interrupted her thoughts, as ebon droplets hit the floor. Her lungs ached, maybe from being strung up to the ceiling.

_WELL, WELL. IT'S HAPPENING SOONER THAN ORIGINALLY EXPECTED. THEN THERE IS A NO MORE RIPE TIME THAN TO DO IT NOW._

"Wha…?" Hannah braced herself in the darkness, seeing the cadavers of her friends and crewmates, their last moments twisted in agony. The fear returned once more, crystal cold jaws clamping down whatever she needed to get out. Something moved. Not one of them…a branch? Something brushed her arm from behind, she jumped, now quite certain that she had to get out of their now. Struggling, Hannah's affirmation was now complete. It was, indeed a branch, yet it seemed to have more fluidity to it. It brushed her arm once more and her breath hitched. What little strength she had, she tried desperately to pull herself from the imprisonment of the ceiling.

_WE NOW GLADLY ACCEPT YOU INTO OUR RANKS, EBONFIELD…_

As the branch went in for a third pass, something extended, a sapling, young and green. It brushed against her wrist, yet continually applied more pressure. Eventually it broke the skin of her wrist and began rapidly spreading. A ragged scream fled from her throat as she continued to struggle, trying to escape the pain as burning white blossoms pealed in her head. She watched the youthful green spread through her arm, terrified. She remembered perhaps saying a few things, but wasn't too sure of what.

Another scream joined hers and she felt the tension on the chain snap as she careened to the ground. Shock pulsated her body, the thing in her arm still growing, but slowly as its life source was now cut off. However much pain she experienced, Hannah managed to gain control again. Still sensing danger, she attempted to inch away using her elbows and hips, as her wrists were still bound. Yet hands were on her in an instant. A quick blush flickering across her face reminded her of whose hands they were. Chekov pulled the chains away, and quickly helped her up by her bad wrist. He pulled away in confusion at the unfamiliar texture, but back to her again when he saw her eyes wide with pain, which resulted in her crumpling back to the floor. The ensign caught her, by the waist as she crumpled into his form. "Let's get out of here, Hannah." She nodded as she found her legs again, unaware until now of the phaser fire erupting about them.

She didn't remember much other than running down hallways, which she was rather unsure of how she managed it, a lot of urging from Chekov (she yelled back a few times in Russian), entering the docking bay once more, finding solace in a shuttle. She partially remembered before succumbing to the familiar folds of darkness Chekov earnestly looking over McCoy's shoulder as the venerable doctor tended to her. The threadbare tendrils of a smile peaked at her lips as she fell into the welcoming embrace of unconsciousness.

Peace. Serenity. She was finally safe. The engineer was finally able to leave the horrific entity of The Cygnus. Yet something echoed in the back of her mind. The handsome, comforting face of the Uzbek flitted in her visage. And the haunting voice that now was the Cygnus chilled the engineer, and she was rather unsure that she ever heard them.

_THOUGH YOU MAY LEAVE…YOU WILL NEVER ESCAPE OUR CALL._

**AN: **_Okay…so that only took like…twelve and a half years, right? Well, I'm now on break, and will hopefully finish this thing before I leave. And did I mention I've got a sequel in the works? Or was that not obvious enough? And maybe it was also kind of obvious that I just wanted to finish this chapter. Sure it could be better…but…argh…trying to get through finals was a bitch, and I really wanted to work on it. Anyway. This is dragging on for forever._


	5. Remembering

**AN:** _Sorry about that comment, guys…I'm just really workin' hard on this thing and…yeah. ANYWAY, things'll hopefully get a bit cuter and blah blah blah the end. AND THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS!!!! It seriously just…makes me happy to make all y'all happy. I should also give credit to Sergei Lukyanenko's "Nightwatch" Teratology for actually the majority of the Russian names in this fic. PLEASE READ HIS BOOKS! THEY'RE SO UNDERRATED AND AMAZING!!!!_

**Chapter Five: Remembering**

She rubbed at her face tiredly as she tiredly stumbled down the frozen corridor with the rest of the graduates. Commencement was yesterday, and they were getting up at the freakin' ass-crack of dawn to go space side. Well…at least there was no jet lag involved. She smiled at her stupid joke. _Oh…it's the little things that make you laugh_. She wondered if the Russians ever believed in giving breaks. It was a little harrowing how much they really worked. She nodded to herself; it was good. She really liked it all, but…sometimes she wanted to read, or catch up on the outside world. She hadn't had a chance to talk to father in three months! It was kinda crazy, but she was sure that joining the Academy here was probably a better choice than San Francisco. Kinda convenient that her dad got a job here. She shivered as they had the brief walk across the field to the docking bay. Winter right outside of Vologda was no joke. Sure it was dry most of the time, but what scathing winters they had. She was glad they were a little looser on the terms of drinking ages sometimes. At least good old Vodka gave the illusion of warmth. She also missed her warm home of Redding tucked among the redwoods. But California was not for her.

She felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she looked to her left. A clever, little grin from her xenolinguist friend lit up her heart. Faina Petrova opened up to her quickly in the Academy when the engineer stumbled over herself in conversational Russian. The xenolinguist was more than happy to aid her in learning Russian, if she only she helped her better her English as well. The two had been in classes together ever since the first day the engineer set foot in the academy. Sure they had their occasional tiffs and fights, like good friends do. But it only made them stronger, and closer than before.

"What?" The engineer grumbled, trying her best not to shiver in the cold, and bear it like most of the others did. Faina chuckled, her bright grey eyes reflecting the light from the newly fallen snow. "Y'know…this'll be the last time we're going to be planetside."

"At least for a while," The engineer huffed. She loved Faina, she really did. But…she just didn't want to be talked to this morning. Seriously. But the xenolinguist was right. She looked around her briefly. The stunted acacia trees covered in a fine layer of snow, the clear sky just turning a faint azure, and faded bands of orange and magenta receded into the horizon. The glowing ivory face of the moon still hung in the sky, just like her breath. A faint smile coursed the line of her lips as she pointed skyward, hazel and light grey looked upward.

"Y'know…We're going to see that quite soon." The engineer's grin widened as she looked back to Faina. She nodded with equal enthusiasm.

"The fabled chunk of celestial rock!" a small giggle escaped her.

The engineer's visage met the sliding glass doors that led them into the hangar. The engineer felt herself focus a bit more at the prospect of a warm building. Faina smirked "Stop being such a baby! Anyway…the cold's good for you!" The engineer wasn't particularly listening to Petrova as they were blasted with hot air. Her eyes shifted closed. Being outside for five minutes felt like fifteen hours. Especially here, but when her eyes shifted open. She had to stop, even as everyone shuffled past her.

She stared in awe up at the huge ceiling of the docking bay as her stomach pitted of all the strange looks around her. The bright lights that gleamed off the shuttles were enough to give her goosebumps…and all of the activity bustling around her. She had long dreamt of this moment ever since she could remember. To be among the stars, the immense vastness of space. And this was one of the very last times her feet would ever grace the Earth. Well, at least for a while. Her heart guttered for a moment, remembering the sad, yet elated face of her father when she received her entrance letter to Starfleet. She would miss him greatly, but…she had to follow her dreams, even for him.

A bony protrusion struck her shoulder. The newfound engineer was jostled back as she exclaimed a quiet, yet sharp "ow…". Piercing grey eyes, and dark blonde hair (that almost appeared to have been strained back. Nary a hair was out of place…unlike hers). met her surprised visage. An intimidating beauty, lip curled in defiant anger made her stomach churn. She seemed to be around her own age, but seemed to have the air of someone that was far older than the poor, little engineer. "Oh! I'm so very sorry!" She bowed a bit, biting her lip in embarrassment. The girl gave her a small huff and a smile, as if to say _oh…you're so pathetic_.

"Maybe you should pay attention to where you're going instead of focusing on the clouds so much? And the formality's cute, but…anyone can tell you're an American by that atrocious accent."

"...And maybe you could be a bit nicer to one of the engineers that's just been assigned to the Cygnus, Alisa."

The engineer and her acquaintance turned round. A young man, however several years older than the two, looked rather unimpressed with the science officer. Hazel-green eyes couldn't help but be surprised with the striking appearance of the Cygnus' first mate. Andrey Fedorov was well known by the Russian academy. And she had seen him many times, but always thought her place in the academy was rather insignificant. But apparently not, since he knew of her. But that could have been obvious since he knew she was on his crew…duh! The thoughts swirling in her head almost made her dizzy.

"Wait…_she's_ going to be with _us_? An American…seriously?" sharp green eyes blinked in shock, then turned back to look at the messy engineer. Unruly hair tied in…some fashion, the newly issued jumpsuit somewhat unzipped, that bag carelessly thrown over her shoulder. It was…appalling. The engineer wasn't too sure what to do at the unblinking stare, so she just stood there looking between them.

"Uh…can I go now? I've gotta do some preliminary checks on fuel levels and…" the girl just made an angry noise as she huffed off, grumbling some things angrily she was certain that they didn't teach in official Russian language courses. But the Uzbek still stood there, with a smirk on his face.

"That's usually the best way to deal with her, I'm impressed."

A murmur of a laugh escaped her throat quietly. "I dunno. I guess we still have people like that in America. They dislike being ignored." An awkward silence suddenly cut through the two…as she felt a blush cut across her face. Sure he was _very_ attractive, but it was weird to think of him that way and it was the first officer of the Cygnus. _The_ Cygnus. A calloused hand grazed the back of her head, as she looked groundward. "Well…ah…I should, uh…probably get goin'. Got engineery stuff to be doing."

_Engineery. What?_

"It's…Ebonfield, right?"

She stopped at her name being uttered and turned back, her mouth hanging slightly open. He was addressing her, but never mind that. He knew her last name even! This was insanity! "Eb-uh-yeah…Ebonfield. Hannah. Yeah…that's my name that I was, uh…yeah." The Uzbek laughed, shaking his head, his sable locks twisting from his visage. If she saw her face, she was sure it would be the color of the star atop the Kremlin. She sighed and her brow crumpled, giving into the defeat of embarrassment. "…I'm an idiot…"

"No…" Andrey Fedorov still chuckled, advancing, a white smile gleaming at her. "…you're just nervous, that's all, Hannah Ebonfield."

"Hannah. Please." A quirked eyebrow with an equally quirked smile made her feel a little more at ease. She had always seen him talking to far more important people that her insignificant self, and she pegged him to be the authoritative type, but he was really nice.

"I should probably let you get back to work. See you space-side. It was good meeting you." He smiled as he walked off. A small sigh cut through her as she watched him go the opposite way. Maybe things weren't going to be so bad after all.

* * *

"Ah, good. You're awake. How're you feeling?"

The engineer's eyes felt sore, she didn't know why, but they did. Her body felt strangely numb, as if all of her nerves were pulsating and tingly. Her retinas screamed at her, even through vaguely shuttered lashes and lids. The room was actually…lit, and well. She could hear others bustling about her, and the subtle hum of generators and the automated quiet click and whir of delicate machines. Her eyes slowly came into focus at various people walking by, as if nothing was wrong. She felt oddly at ease. Hannah suddenly found herself looking up into the inquisitive face of the Doctor as she sniffed. "You…you okay?"

"Uh…yeah…nothing to worry about." She tried sitting up and regretted the choice as she groaned in pain. Her body was none too happy with her, after what she'd just gone through. McCoy gave her a consoling look as if to say _you really shouldn't've done that_.

"You might wanna rest a bit more there, alright?" It seemed the first time the doctor had smiled in…well, she certainly didn't see him smiling at all on the Cygnus. "You've been severely dehydrated, tortured, passed out several times…It's a miracle you're still alive." Hannah nodded, almost in awe of the situation that she had just undergone. She was still unaware that any of it actually happened. "But…you should tell me how you're feelin'. It's kinda important."

"Well, Doctor. I feel like I've been beaten with a dead warhorse, drowned, resuscitated, then beaten with a dead warhorse…again. But, other than that, just fine." A feeble smile cut across her lips as another thought crossed her mind. "…And in good use of a shower, maybe…"

McCoy's smile broadened as he took her hand in earnest, as soothing brown met relieved hazel, "Soon, Miss Ebonfield. But you've still gotta rest. Your ankle seems to almost have healed…"

"Hannah, please." An amused look crossed her features, and a slight pause encompassed them both as she found the right words "Thanks so much for taking care of poor, little me."

"Hey…I'm just an old, country doctor. It's my job…" He paused as she began looking at her wrist with the bandage wrapped around it. Hannah noticed the doctor looking rather amazed at the former wound, as if he had a rather intense experience with removing the quickly growing roots from her body. "When we got back, you were still out…we had given you a little more anesthesia to make sure you were fully under. I had only remembered it spread only through your wrist, but…" He shook his head confounded, almost seeming to remember it then and there "It had almost spread to your chest cavity. It had grown that fast in only a mere two hours, hour and a half off the record."

Hannah's eyes filled with alarm, yet McCoy gave her hand a reassuring pat "But we managed to extract it". You probably don't wanna know how, but…anyway, I should let you get back to rest." She nodded as the doctor left, yet she was about to launch into another question, yet McCoy looked rather exhausted himself. Besides, he probably had many other important things to do. Like, .She had really wondered how long she had been out for. It almost felt like days, but what way was there of knowing. Her stomach roared rather sourly at her, as she looked down, surprised that something so small could make such a furious noise. When was the last time she had good, solid food?

"Hush!" she whispered sharply to it. It seemed to grumble defiantly back at her as she fell back into the standard issue pillows. She lightly winced as she noted, from her other arm hung a dripping IV. _Gross_. She mused. She had never liked the damn things, but it was probably for the best, as Doctor McCoy seemed, no, was, a good medical officer. It was actually also somewhat comforting to hear her native language, and not just from a disembodied voice that hung listlessly in the bridge of the Cygnus.

About two hours later, and some headway into an article on Klingon warbirds (the engines seemed really superfluous, if they just had a better way of connecting the auxiliary turbines to a different back up generator, then they'd probably stop breaking down so much), some quick footsteps pervaded her thoughts, but she was rather unaware of their presence. "Hannah?" A tenor voice with a familiar accent emerged from her left and into her stream of thoughts. She turned her visage; a concerned, yet elated azure gaze couldn't stop her from smiling. Chekov hastily embraced her, yet was still cognizant enough of the IV (and was rather thankful for that. She inhaled and drank him in, her rising heart rate chronicled by the pinging monitor. Salt and musk, and a sweet note that she couldn't place invaded her olfactory senses. She hoped he didn't notice, and was rather embarrassed. Her stomach did intrepid little flips at the length of their embrace, the pleasing weight of his muscular arms. Actually, she didn't remember the last time she received a hug.

As their embrace ended, a woman in a standard Starfleet uniform came by to remove her IV. The young blonde gave the two a very wry grin, but it eventually softened. Hannah inwardly shook her head; she could never wear a dress _that _short. It was kind of…strange and terrifying. She tried not to pay attention to the nurse as she removed the IV, attempting to find Chekov's face far more interesting, and it seemed to work.

"How are ju feeling, Hannah?" Chekov had since pulled a chair closer to her cot and grinned, yet there was sincerity in his features. She felt herself sinking deeply into his eyes, remotely losing herself. It was rather interesting to see someone for the first time, without the shroud of omnipresent red cloaking features. The brief movement of the needle in her arm brought her silently back to reality.

"Uh…Fine!" The engineer's eyes listed to left for a moment, taking into consideration how she really felt. "Well…I'm pretty sore, still feel like I was beaten by a dead horse, but…"

"But…how does one get beaten by a dead horse?" Chekov's smile changed momentarily, finding her words confusing. She and the nurse laughed briefly. The ensign's visage clouded, but in amusement, as he saw her in different measures. "Vat?"

"It's a figure of speech, Pavel…" The nurse shook her head, as she wrapped a small amount of gauze around Hannah's elbow. "There…so y'don't look like an attempted suicide victim."

Hannah grinned unsurely, as she met the nurses' warm sienna gaze. "Thanks, I guess…"

"I'm Nurse Christine Chapel, Doctor McCoy's assistant. He said you could leave whenever you feel comfortable, okay? Just sign this datapad here, and you're good to go. Also--" the nurse placed at the foot of her bed, her washed, yet faded and distressed things. "—I figured you wanted to keep these, so we washed 'em, but if you ever want a fresh uniform, we've got those too."

"Thanks…" Hannah smiled deeply. Sure she probably should get some different ones, but this was all she had left from the Cygnus. She clutched them protectively to her chest.

As the engineer finished signing the data pad, Nurse Chapel gave Chekov a dry grin. "Don't you have things to be doing on the bridge, sir?" The young ensign shook his head.

"_Niet_, ve have a set course. All ees vell. Ze Captain told me to check on Hannah, to become acquainted wiz her quarters." Hannah's eyes went somewhat wide as she just heard Chekov's words. Nurse Chapel covered part of her face with the datapad, as a nervous, yet amused look beamed over it. A severe blush flared across the engineer's face, as she coughed uncomfortably.

As the misconstrued meaning dawned on the young ensign he attempted to explain himself, yet the bemused Nurse Chapel tittered behind the datapad, as her gaze turned on Hannah. "If he gives you any trouble, lemme know." She walked off, giggling.

The engineer and ensign exchanged nervous glances. "Vat I meant vas…"

"N-no…it's okay, I, uh…so, how're you?"

Chekov seemed somewhat relieved that she wanted to change the subject as quickly as he did. A hand dragged through the unruly, tousled curls as his gaze became remotely unfocused. "Somevat tired, really. I alvays vanted to see how ju vere doing, yet ze doctor vould always get rid of me." A saddened note took over his rather exuberant voice. "Ju vere asleep for tree days…"

Hannah's eyes widened, completely unaware that that much time had passed. "_That long_?"

"I am so relieved zat you are vell, Hannah." Chekov smiled. Hannah did the same, yet she shook her head in shock. So much had happened in the past few days, she couldn't believe that she was alive, or...even awake. It was puzzling to her, and terrifying, yet she was very glad that she was being taken care of. Andrey would have been…

Her brow clouded partially as she suddenly remembered what her dream was moments before she woke up. She reined the tears springing to her eyes as best she could. Everything that happened to her was still shrouded in the illusionary web of dreams. Chekov's confused gaze made her suddenly sniff and smile, "Pavel…look…I should probably change, so…keep talking! I'll still be listening, I promise." She flashed him a quick smile before getting up as quickly as she was able, and tugged on the curtain that surrounded the cot.

"…about vat?" he finally said. It was somewhat amusing to hear his disembodied voice from behind the curtain. As she was wiping the tears away, Hannah laughed as she was leaning against the cot. Yes, she needed a shower, and really wanted to walk, and get to see the fabled Enterprise, but, she needed to have a few moments to herself. It was slowly beginning to hit, but she wouldn't let it. The feelings were far too strong right now, and she didn't want to embarrass anyone, particularly herself…in front of Chekov.

Pulling off the disposable gown and beginning to change she shook her head, even though the ensign couldn't see her "I dunno. Where're you from?"

"I tought zat vas obvious…"

"But where?" She struggled into her tank, smiling at his voice.

"Varykino. Just outside of Moscow. Is a beautiful place if ju hawe not been zere jourself. Many acres of forest, and surprisingly little vater." As she was pulling the pants of the jumpsuit on, she heard a brief sigh from behind the curtain, which made her stop briefly. "…sometimes, I miss it greatly. I feel I have been up here for far too long."

Hannah felt like she startled the ensign by whipping open the curtain almost a little too fast. The ensign stood, smiled and nodded at her. She nodded back, feeling more like herself again "No…I know exactly how you feel. Even…Russia feels like home for me…"

The ensign began walking and the engineer followed; he looked as if he remembered something. "I vas going to ask ju about zat. How did ju end up in Russia?"

Hannah shook her head as they both headed out in the hallway. Oh, it felt good to just walk, and to see other people in brightly lit corridors either leisurely walking or darting in and out of small clusters of the ships' crew. A small smile flitted about her lips. "My father's a Civil Engineer. He helps make the plans for the ships. I guess he just got a good offer. We moved to Moscow when I was eleven. It was definitely a change of scenery for the backwoods of California."

"Wery interesting…" Chekov sidestepped a crewmember as they came close to the turbo lifts. " I guess ju could see Russia from jour house…" He smirked at his own joke. Hannah's laugh exhaled through her nose as she shook her head, then tilted it towards the ceiling in thought "Funny…that sounds really familiar…"

"Really? Vere from?"

"Oh…I think some crazy woman said it. She tried to be the president, like…two hundred years ago."

The ensign shook his curly hair as they stood in front of the lift entrances "Jour country has such a troubled past." Hannah turned back, looking upwards into pale blue orbs, a mischievous look on her face.

"And yours doesn't?"

They boarded the lift with various other crewmembers, an awkward silence pervading the small cabin as they ascended floors with ease. She still couldn't believe that she was on the Enterprise, and once she had a free chance, had to find the head engineer. She'd love to know how she worked. She was eventually pulled from her thoughts as she found Chekov staring at her. As soon as they made eye contact he quickly looked away. Hannah shook her head slightly. Chekov was absolutely adorable. Quite handsome in fact, yet…this was really the second time she had ever really met him. She still didn't understand why she seemed to feel so much for him. Maybe it was a coping mechanism? Or was she just kidding herself that she actually, well…felt something genuine for him. He seemed very interesting, and ridiculously bright. She also had to figure him out. He was just another puzzle wanting to be solved.

They exited on deck four, only a few others with them. They appeared to be in a circular hallway, in metallic hues. It was apparently the best way to make such cold colors actually feel warm and comforting. As the young ensign began leading her to her quarters, the young engineer stopped "Y'know…" Chekov paused and turned to face her, inquisitive blue eyes piercing into her own. Her knees quivered. Oh…he really was rather adorable… "I never really got to thank you for…as much as I hate to say the phrase but…for saving me. For really, keeping my head clear…so…thanks" She nervously coughed. The Russian seemed touched as he approached her, eyes soft with an equally gentle smile. Before he could speak, the engineer could feel eyes on them. Funnily enough, they both simultaneously turned to face a stoic man…with pointy ears. She never did too well in her xenoculturalist classes back in Starfleet Academy. Maybe he was Romulan? No…they had strange tattoos all over their faces…and didn't their planet get absorbed in a supernova?

"Ah! Hello Commander Spock." The ensign's voice was full of enthusiasm; he grabbed hold of the engineer's hand once more (and much to her delight) as they headed over to the stark figure of Commander Spock. His austere presence made him seem intimidating, yet his calm gaze made him appear venerable despite his age. She gulped as their gaze connected; something ancient and wise stirred within, and made her feel rather uncomfortable. Hannah smiled nervously, yet received no immediate response. _Great…_

"Ensign Chekov," The calm voice pervaded "I believe you were supposed to be present at a meeting that began fifteen minutes ago with your…counterpart." Spock's gaze fell on her at the mention of counterpart…which she didn't like one bit. A hand came to Chekov's forehead as a frustrated noise was emitted from his throat.

"I…I completely forgot!" the ensign began cursing at himself as Hannah just looked confused. Maybe the commander knew something?

"Perhaps you two should follow me…" The esoteric voice echoed, as his tall, lank form strode down the hallway. Recollecting himself, Chekov nodded and followed after, still cursing himself, yet Hannah had to interject, as confusion began to mount to mild annoyance. "Pavel, would you mind telling me what's going on here?"

An apologetic gaze from those inquisitive blue eyes made all of her annoyance melt away and her heart soften. Oh, why was she being such a sissy? "I am very sorry, Hannah. I forgot to tell you zat Captain Qurik vished to hawe a meeting vis you, going ower zee Cygnus files. _Da_?"

"_Da…_I mean, yes…" The engineer sighed, wondering why everything had to move so quickly. She just wanted to sleep…forever. Well, maybe not that long, but at the rate things were going…

The conference room was quite small, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. There were five chairs, clothed in black leather that surrounded an equally rectangular table. The same shades that permeated the hallway, was still present here. Very simplistic in design, yet very ascetic in presence. She wondered how the enemies of the enterprise felt in here and her stomach pitched. Those that were present were the exhausted doctor and the lively captain, their anachronistic appearances almost comical side by side. The commander took a side chair, as did the ensign. The engineer was the last to sit, begrudgingly taking a seat at the end, facing Kirk.

"Hannah! I hope you're feeling much better. Bones informed me that you made a quick recovery." Blue eyes flashed humorously as he partially paid attention to a few data pads in front of him. McCoy rolled his eyes at the mention of his nickname and stared deeply into the recovered files from the Cygnus, every fiber seeming to bemoan the sheer fact he was sitting at the table.

Hannah grinned nervously as she took in all the attendants of the table "Well…perhaps three days late, Captain."

Kirk chuckled as he looked in her direction. "I know you've gotta be tired, and need some time to settle in, so we'll keep this short, okay?" The engineer nodded, just as the captain made some motion to the Commander "Oh! I don't think you've been formally introduced! Hannah, this is the Enterprises' first officer, Commander Spock." As she saw him rise partially, she did as well and they shook hands. Then it was as if something clicked in her head; Vulcan! _That_ was it! Why had it taken her so long, she wondered, at such an obvious fact. She supposed she really hadn't been paying attention.

"A pleasure to meet a survivor of the Cygnus." Spock inclined his head briefly before sitting down again. The way he said it made her feel…endangered. As she sat down, she realized how dwarfed she felt in the armchair. And how she was really the only cognizant and alive member of the crew of the Cygnus, once the best ship in the Russian edge of Starfleet, now was drifting in uncharted waters, an unseemly host for horrific beasts.

The dream was not a dream anymore.

"Computer: record session. This is just for protocol, could you list your name, rank, and occupation?" The Captain looked to his datapad almost nonchalantly. Or at least seemed to. Hannah's heart sunk.

"Ebonfield, Hannah. Ensign. Petty engineer to the Cygnus."

"So…what happened after Lieutenants Andropov and Nikitn came aboard?" Kirk now was all business and it seemed very strange to her. It almost seemed over a century since those two names were uttered. Hannah became suddenly quiet as the memory split her skull open, the vividness of it all. She stared at the table as she continued.

"I haven't reviewed the files, Captain, but, you should know that they went planet side with seven and returned with three, two of our lieutenants and a woman…" Hannah shook her head "…she…I had no idea where she came from."

"Was she human?"

Hannah continued to stare at the gleaming surface of the table. "No…an alien. She had green skin. I never got to talk with her, no idea who she was."

"Was she a native of Epsilon Five?"

Hannah blinked surprisedly at her answer, shocked that she hadn't realized it sooner "No…no, Captain, she wasn't."

She felt confused and worried glances across the table. Kirk still pressed on.

"So Andropov and Nikitn…?"

Hannah finally looked zenithward. Chekov appeared to be naively attentive, yet consoling when their eyes met. "Yes. They hadn't retrieved anything. It was as if they were just…running for their lives the moment they got down there…"

"So why didn't they alert the Cygnus when members of the crew went missing?" Kirk shook his head. Hannah glared at the Captain, clearly offended. How dare he assume.

"Would your crew risk others beaming to the surface of a life-threatening planet to find those that were just lost or possibly killed? Or perhaps your crew just leaves people to die?" the engineer suddenly regretted what came out of her mouth and pursed her lips as she started back at the table again. "I'm…I'm sorry…I didn't mean…" She now felt all eyes on her, sympathy, shock, and embarrassment. She blinked and exhaled through her nose, wondering how much more she could take. "Please…continue, captain."

There was a slight pause as she could sense a palpable glare flaring from McCoy to Kirk. "So…ah…even though you're an engineer, do you know anything about when the infection started? Or even how?"

Hannah nodded slowly. _Oh, this is gonna be hard. C'mon Anya…get a hold of yourself._

"Only if you're bitten, can you be infected. There were none aboard that were immune. And there were…too many to be counted that were bitten…many others were just…killed. I remember passing by the medical bay several times, and…they wouldn't allow anyone through there. They had to set up an auxiliary med bay, because there were so many tests going on, our labs aren't that big, you see…" The engineer inhaled deeply, afraid of continuing. "I just remember one night, hearing an alarm going off, then stopping and…these horrific screams. I…ran for the evacuation route, just like everyone else. It was so dark…next thing I truly remember were those moments in the docking bay…"

There was a considerable pause for respect, then Kirk continued. "…and what of Andrey Fedorov? He was the first mate, correct?"

Hannah numbly shook her head as everything slowly came crashing down around her. She bit her lip as she felt warmth pool across the brim of her lashes. _Please…I can't anymore…not if you expect me to keep my composure._

"Yes, uh…Andrey—" She sniffed and gripped the arms of the chair, knuckles turning white. "—He was one of the seven that did not return.

"So…he's somewhere still on Episilon Five?" Kirk asked hopefully

"Or perhaps dead…" Spock mused. The senior medical officer, ensign, and captain shot Spock a look. The Vulcan tilted his head inquiringly. "It is only logical to think so, is it not?"

Hannah was on her feet before she knew it, fists balled up to keep composure, shoulders visibly shaking. None of the men said a word as she struggled desperately for that even, awkward composure that upset people tend to find. Her gaze suddenly flitted upwards "Captain…I…it's too soon for me. Imagine being the only survivor of the Cygnus, watching people that you lived every waking moment with, be killed in front of you, or worse…become…" Her breath hitched, and her thoughts stopped as words left her. She quickly exited the conference room. She was the only person left from that crew. The only person that could chronicle their stories.

Though there were many people in that corridor. She felt very alone.

"S'vyead. When did they last leave the Cygnus?" Black, sultry lips moved in the dark of their ship. They had been tracking it for days now, and all functions had ceased. She assumed that the Thar, or the Plague, managed to cripple it. Like so many ships before it, and so many planets. Yellow eyes looked through the Helm window as she shook her head, long beaded hair flicking this way and that. Anger flared up again as she regarded the NCC class vessel. The Federation was so blind; where was the aid that was promised them when they sent out distress signals? Only to have their crops and peoples completely destroyed.

"About eighty-two hours ago, Captain M'wyr" Her navigator responded. Her long sand colored nails clacked on the skeletal looking metal. A sigh prosecuted its way through her narrow and flat nose. Her reptilian skin flashed in the lights of the computers. And Vrailya was probably dead by now. Stupid humans mettling in their own affairs. Taking their wounded aboard. It was simply unheard of. M'wyr stood, striding over to the four thorny, green undead which were restrained, drugged. She placed a hand over one.

"You'll have to help me a bit more now, Thar. We ask for vengeance."

_DO NOT FRET, DEAREST M'WYR. YOU SOON SHALL HAVE YOUR LITTLE SHIP._

**AN: ** _And just when you thought things couldn't get worse. Hoo boy._


	6. Reassurance

**AN:** _Another choppy confusing chapter. And plot progression…wee…oh, did I mention cute fluffy stuff? I think we're also in need of that. I was also surprised that no one saw the Sarah Palin reference (or maybe you did, you just didn't say anything). I dunno…I thought it was funny…anyway…_

**Chapter Six: Reassurance**

Chekov felt in his heart that he wanted to run out after her, but somber throes of her emotions kept him stationary. He desperately wanted to comfort her, but it felt best to leave her alone for now. After all, they had just met. But he felt that it was his place, because of his blood, because of those meager, yet full hours they spent together. His visage drew tablewards for the first time, a pang of guilt wracking his chest. He wished he had done more to prevent what had just transpired here, he wished that he could have made her feel more comfortable. He had undertaken the task of making sure she was all right, for the captain. And look what had happened. So many things that he could have done to make things right…But were there?

A vivid pause overtook the room as Chekov could even still feel her outside. Maybe it wasn't too late to leave? Hell…she didn't even know where her room was. And all those curious people that had never even seen her before. This wasn't how the crew of the Enterprise treated guests. Not in his book anyway. Chekov's thoughts paused as he could even feel the glare exchanged from McCoy to Spock "My god man! Look what you've done!"

The first officer raised his eyebrows in the form of a shrug, twisting his chair towards the miffed doctor. "I was merely posing some different thoughts on the subject, doctor. It is a simple matter of life and death. What she is not able to comprehend is entirely her fault—" The vulcan turned to the captain of the Enterprise. "Yet the situation now stands thusly: we've got a possibly infected former member of the Cygnus now amongst our ranks--"

"She's not infected…" Bones rumbled, hands tangled in his usually sleek combed hair, now awry and all out of place. "I ran every single test I could think of while she was still out, y'here?" the doctor slapped his palm down on the liquid face of the table "Clean as a pin…"

"But doctor," Spock smiled briefly, a brief grin creeping up the side of his face. "I believed that pins carried an average of—"

"Dammit, man! It's a figure of speech!"

"Your interruptions are proving to be quite irrelevant, doctor."

"Alright…" Kirk raised his hands to his temples, quite obviously sick of the bickering. Yet his smile proved to Chekov that he thought quite otherwise. But the ensign was glad that Kirk wanted to be more adult…well, at least in appearance. "…So…what's our next course of action?"

"Ve shuld go back to Epsilon, and see if Andrey Fedorov ees still aliwe…" Chekov was now on his feet, not entirely sure why, but it seemed to make them take the nineteen-year old more seriously. Now, however, they just stared at him, perhaps realizing that his affections lied with the quite pretty engineer. Kirk seemed to approve, yet Bones McCoy soon became the voice of reason.

"Well…easier said than done, kid." He laughed ironically, then a rather serious grimace loomed over the weather-worn face "…Besides, we can't just go back just to see if someone's alive, I mean…it's risky, but…"

"And you were anxious to get to the Cygnus in the first place, Bones."

"Jim…that was when I didn't know there were flesh, eating zombies aboard the ship."

"Zombies…you're making this sound like Science Fiction."

Spock managed to side step into the conversation quite easily, dark gaze rising from the lacquered surface of the table, "Yet what reason have we to do back to a planet we know nothing about? Surely it's quite dangerous, and there are chances that we could very well end up like the Cygnus."

Chekov raised an eyebrow at the Vulcan's logic. Even though he was only half, he sure didn't fail his people. And though this was nowhere near where he wanted to take the outcome of this situation, Spock was quite right. But he didn't have to be right all the time! "Commander Spock. This ees a different crew. And ve have seen vhat Epsilon Fiwe can do to a ship. But zis ees a chance where ve can maybe learn from zere mistakes. So zee crew of zee Cygnus vas all Russian, zey vere unavare of zee situation. Vis zeir liwes, ve now understand so much…zis planet could ewen be an threat to zee entire Federation—"

"Ensign Chekov." Kirk raised an eyebrow, with an equally amused smile, leaned forward in the sleek chair, strong hands folded into themselves. Azure depths quickly darted to his lap, lips being grazed by teeth. Chekov felt the hot hands of embarrassment present on his shoulders. "Thank you for your…speech. But I mean, c'mon. It's kinda obvious where your intentions lie."

Pale skin quickly took on a reddish hue as Chekov's head snapped upward, a surprised, wide-eyed expression regarded his three superiors. A jumbled stammer began prying itself out of his lips, attempting to be translated into something, but the good captain stopped him with a laugh. McCoy shook his head slowly, annoyed and deterred by the next tangent. Spock's stoic gaze was unmoving, yet slightly impressed with the words from the ensign "Though, perhaps his intent lies elsewhere as you say, Captain, I believe Chekov has a very good point. Though we have no standing evidence that this is a threat to the entire Federation, but in order to understand fully the nature of the virus, we could have our labs analyze all of the data that you gentlemen managed to extricate from the Cygnus' databanks. However, that may not be enough."

Kirk nodded and turned his light gaze to McCoy who looked like he was just about ready to fall asleep. "Bones, you said there was a…"branch" you managed to extract from Ebonfield, right?"

McCoy made a short, inquisitive grunt as his consciousness began to come back to the conference room at hand. "Huh? Oh…yeah. Our labs are running tests on it now. Should be done in…another four hours, I think."

"See what you can get out of that, I want an analysis of the results as soon as possible. Chekov-" The now serious captain turned to the curious ensign. Chekov blinked in bewilderment. Meetings always seemed to go like this, quickly resolved, and quickly from seriousness to humor. He wondered if Kirk was perhaps, bi-polar or not.

"Yes, Keptian?"

"Change our course from Station K-7 to Epsilon Five. I'll see all of you gentlemen at eighteen-hundred hours." Kirk stood, handing Chekov a datapad, as he patted the shoulder of the weary Bones "And, doctor, please get some rest."

Chekov sighed inwardly. Though he truly loved being acting navigator, he had a lot of work ahead of him.

"Here to see Andrey come back?"

Hannah blinked in surprise at the head engineer. She wasn't aware that she had actually traveled quite this far. At all. She nodded, saddened by the memory that pervaded her consciousness, and slunk back behind the instruments that would soon bring the crewmembers home. She chanced a look behind her. Even Captain Ignatevitch was there. Well…that made sense. It was certainly a dangerous planet. He would be considered a horrible captain if he weren't there.

"I just miss him, okay?"

Iilya smirked at her behavior "It hasn't even been three days yet."

"So?" She stopped herself. Why was she thinking these things now? Iilya hand Hannah were always being silly, but this wasn't the time. They had to focus on so much information; any little detail wrong and someone could die. Or everyone. The engineer hadn't seen either in practice yet, and she hoped never to. She turned to Iilya, who currently had a puzzled look on his face, every single wrinkle (which weren't many), was outlined in vermillion. "What's wrong?" Hannah eased herself closer to him, the red glare from the screen tingeing her face with the same hue.

"They should've contacted us fifteen minutes ago…"

Hannah felt her heart plummet, then shook her head, enraged that she could even think that way. She couldn't give up so easily on them like that, as a brief glance went over to the unknowing Iilya. Firstly, the group was strong and worked together well; that's why they were chosen. And Yasha Ignatevitch was captain for a reason. She had thought back to a few days before, bringing several samples up of strange ferns to beetles to, whatever information the science labs managed to extricate. Secondly, she knew that they would be just fine. Sure this was their first time doing an operation such as this, having the crew spending a day or two on the surface. God, that made it sound so casual…

"This is Andropov to the Cygnus. Requesting three to beam up, one injured."

Her heart dropped into her stomach, resuming its freefall, where only seconds before, she had built up her opinion that they were impregnable. The crushing weight of such a loss… Even though she wasn't focused on anyone else in the small cabin, but an obvious intensity to the already anxious atmosphere was palpable; she could taste its ashy throes on her tongue, feel its heat across her arms. Not only did they set out with seven, but…

"Andropov…what happened?" Iilya barely exhaled; the confusion mounting on his face was terrifying. Iilya was one of the most relaxed, optimistic members of the crew, and she had _never_ seen him like this. She just seemed to notice that her breath was coming out in short gasps.

"We'll explain later. You've just gotta—"

"Kautsky!" The ardent, Muscovite accent from Captain Yasha Ignatevitch barreled through the room, nearly made Hannah jump out of her skin, tears pricking at her eyes. _No…please, god, no. Which five were missing? Which five were…gone?_ "What are you doing, man? Send them up here at once!"

"Yes, sir!" Iilya quickly focused at the harsh utterance of his surname. "Retrieving them in three…two…one…"

Two columns of blinding whiteness, one human shaped, another, somewhat irregular, formed into Gavriil Andropov and Kuzma Nikitn holding a wounded…woman. Someone she had never seen before. Someone that _no one_ had seen before. Almost having green, reptilian skin in appearance, and strange clothes she couldn't tell if they were supposed to be disheveled like that or not.

But...where was Andrey?

Hannah seemed to feel all eyes on her all at once. A nauseated sadness crippled her form as the seemingly slow realization dawned on her that Andrey…would never hail the Cygnus again. Never would she see his smile, never his advice. As the other crewmembers helped the three off the platform, Andropov's steely grey eyes regarded her sadly. "I'm sorry, Anya…we turned around and he was—"

"Don't. Just…stop." She put up her hands defensively. She didn't harbor any ill against Gavriil, as he was a particular gregarious being. Why wouldn't the room spinning? She almost felt everyone looking at her, even that wretched Alisa, boring their gazes into her being. Wordless she began walking away from the saddened, confused weapons specialist, before something twisted, and she fell into the darkness.

Hannah awoke with a stuffy nose and a wet pillow. Her head ached as she quickly swung up from her palate. Pressing two fingers against her brow, as almost seemed by habit, she closed her eyes, sickened from her dream. Still dizzy with remorse and confusion, she looked up across the four feet to where a sleeping Nurse Chapel lay. Somehow they'd been assigned as roommates, which was fine by her. It was kind of strange, standing there in the hallway, looking as she did and seeing a confused, piteous face mark the engineer with her lights. With a comforting arm, Nurse Chapel led her to their room. She was very nice, and Hannah didn't really want to bother her with all the horrific things that had befallen her of late. The engineer just sighed, envy creeping into her mind, wishing she could sleep peacefully like that. Sleep might find her elsewhere, but not now. The engineer threw on some standard issue pants that were in her closet and just left her tank on. Though it would be the slightest bit cold, she would endure. Besides, it also reminded her that she was not engulfed in a blazing furnace.

Hannah quickly exited her room, attempting not to wake Nurse Chapel, and succeeding. Sure there was still some activity, but none too much. She decided to just walk the halls, maybe to just explore, but too soon she got to thinking. Where were they going to go? She seemed to be in good hands, and the federation didn't take to harming part of their ranks, unless they were endangered by said crewmember. She hoped she didn't pose a threat; then again, it was over. She was free from the Cygnus, and the evil that lay there. An unconscious finger ran over the bandage that encapsulated her left wrist. She suddenly got the feeling, however, that they weren't quite done yet.

_So…he's somewhere still on Epsilon Five?_

Kirk's words rang through her head, wondering if they were true. She wondered if anyone was still alive from the crew? Maybe they had just disappeared and were still somehow surviving. As Iilya had said, Uzbeks managed to somehow be the most positive in the most daunting of situations. Her visage fell at the thought of Iilya, having not a clue what happened to him.

A familiar face gauzed her features, that suddenly jolted her out of everything, into an unfamiliar blankness which she felt she had rarely been in. He looked so serene and relaxed scanning a datapad. All of a sudden, she had many questions ringing throughout her mind all at once, yet the contents of the datapad was not one of them. She supposed he eventually felt someone staring at him and his gaze flew skyward, only to look alarmed that it was the engineer. An awkward pause consumed them both before it was broken, none other than the ensign himself.

"How long hawe ju been standing zere?"

"Not too long…I think. I'm sorry for distracting you, I'll just…" Hannah made the gesture to leave, but he quickly stood. Almost…impossibly fast.

"No!" Chekov looked about, embarrassed that his voice carried so much, and cleared his throat briefly. "I mean…no. I don't mind eef—zen again eef ju have got somevere else to—"

"No…not really…"

"Vell, good…ju should—"

"Aum…yeah…" Hannah sat quickly, her face suddenly feeling quite hot. Chekov's attention did not resume at the datapad.

"Are ju not cold?" His eyes falling on her bare arms made her shudder a little bit.

Hannah shook her head, bangs partially falling in her eyes. "No…it's just…better this way."

"I vould tink zee opposite…I mean, ju had been in a wery harsh inwironment, and I tought zat perhaps ju had gotten used to zat."

Before Hannah could answer, her forgotten stomach roared in defiance, disgruntled that it had been so long forgotten. The engineer looked down in surprise, suddenly remembering how hungry she was, and nearly laughed at Chekov's surprised face, his blue eyes widening in earnest surprise. She blushed a little, her gaze suddenly falling to her form. Had she lost that much weight? She really did feel emaciated.

"I vas not aware zat such a small person culd make such loud noises." An amused grin crept up on his face, and she couldn't help but laugh, from embarrassment, from breaking tension. Chekov seemed relieved that she could laugh, glad even; since their expedition on the Cygnus. The ensign shook his head, curls bouncing slightly "Vhere are my manners? Let me show ju to ze canteen. Is zee least I can do."

They both stood, a nervous nod falling from Hannah's head, still trembling slightly from laughter. As they began heading for the turbo lift a question floated from her lips briefly "It's very kind of you to show me around, but…aren't you on duty now?"

"_Niet_. I beliewe I am not due until…three, four more hours?" He tuned his gaze towards her unexpectedly, feeling her heart dancing gently underneath her ribs. He was almost a head taller than she was, so she found herself always looking up…into those pristine depths. She looked away, her face suddenly hot.

"Good…awesome."

"Vhen vas zee last time ju had someting to eat?" Chekov queried as they doors to the turbo lift hissed shut. There was a lengthy pause as she tried to remember. Then she shook her head, almost surprised that she didn't remember.

"It's probably best not to think about it, I guess." Hannah laughed, almost to herself.

A concerned look clouded Chekov's brow "I am steel surprised zat ju can still valk zen."

Hannah's brow popped skyward, a funny grin on her face "Me too…"

The canteen was almost in every way like the Cygnus', which was a little disconcerting to the engineer. As they were both of the NCC class, there were many similarities found. It reminded her of older days laughing with her crewmates as she struggled through her always-improving Russian. And even recently with her run in with the creatures in the dark. She suddenly remembered where she was at the replicator, and almost ordered just about anything she thought was good. She picked her way through the growing crowd as she spotted the mustard uniform, the emphatic hand and quiet, yet elated grin. As she was sitting down, Chekov's expression was a mixture of horror and confusion. She laughed, as she couldn't help herself, knowing the causation of such an expression.

"Y'know. You have the best faces…ever…"

"Vat…_ees_ all of zis?" Chekov looked almost curious. "Vaffles, broccoli, ketchup…?"

"Well," She began, almost in awe that there was such sustenance in front of her "They all taste good."

"But together?" A muffled laugh emitted from Hannah, already enjoying the waffles, and an amused yet bewildered one from Chekov "At least ju picked rye bread,"

"Ohmigod…these are heavenly." She quickly swallowed. Waffles had never tasted so good…ever. Hannah nodded at the mention of black bread "Well, I can't live without it. I guess it's something that's just stuck." She noticed how Chekov smiled and felt her face warm "…am I embarrassing you?"

The ensign stopped mid chew of cereal and shook his head in earnest and smiled partially "No…not at all." and almost as an afterthought he carelessly added "Vhy vould I since I'm sitting vith…" The ensign's face immediately turned a bright shade of red, as he seemed to stop himself from saying something. "Uh…sorry I…" The engineer smiled slightly, yet wasn't entirely sure what he was going to say. Perhaps it was for the best, yet Chekov would become his most adorable when he would get flustered. A devious ribbon flitted across the planes of her mind, she would be sure to have to do that more often. Yet her new friend was in a rut, and she planned to pull him out.

"So...what'd'ja guys talk about when I left?...And sorry for doing that. It was pretty rude of me to just…leave." It seemed the best think to talk about, but Hannah was regretting mentioning it already; her newly torn open grief would take time to mend, but it was relevant.

The ensign seemed rather grateful to have been immersed into a different line of thought. A sigh, however, cut through his being. "Vell, ve talked of vat course of action to take. Because of zee possibility zat Andrey might steel be aliwe, ve are going back to Epsilon Fiwe." Hannah suddenly felt the cold clammy hands of nausea at work in her stomach. Going back? Shouldn't they stay as far away as they could from that place? But Andrey could still be alive…

"Ju hawe been more zan helpful to us, Hannah. But…zere is only so much ju know, _da_? Ve need someone zat can giwe us an accurate assessment of vat happened." Chekov assumed a serious countenance, her small hand suddenly in his large warm ones. "I know zat Andrey Fedorov vas wery important to ju. Ju can count on us." A smile suddenly flickered in his lips as she smiled back, yet a sadness overtook her features. It took them so long to leave…and now to go back? All she could do was nod, and held Chekov's hand tighter, glad to have a friend somewhere in this vast universe. "_Balshoye spaciba_, Pavel…"

"What mess have you gotten us into now? Are you sure you calculated the coordinates correctly?" Brown eyes scanned the vast expanse of jungle that lay ahead of them. The map had said a desert…and it appeared that they weren't going to be running into that anytime soon. A clawed hand scratched the oblong brown ear that seemed to be too far for human proportions. "Sure…leave it to Odok to mess things up." He muttered to himself. This was insanity! If they didn't meet today's quota, things would be thrown way off schedule! They had to show something at the auction. The Ferengi sighed through his nose as he began to do the calculations himself on a datapad.

"I'm sure I did, Zek." The young Ferengi, named Odok, scratched his head imploringly. "I did as you told me, but this isn't so bad, I'm sure we could find something here."

Zek made a noise that was to suggest he was rather unhappy. He swung around, Odok looked rather frightened at the steely gaze his superior was giving him. "Well if you had done _exactly _as I told you, why, in the name of the blessed exchequer, are we three planets away from our destination?"

Odok gazed into the blue of the datapad, briefly whispering numbers and nodding to himself then his face froze when he realized a tiny detail had evaded his grasp; he looked skyward ready to apologize, but a figure suddenly made his eyes wide with surprise. Zek's face became a mixture of nausea and boredom as if to say _oh what now_. The more officious of the two Ferengi turned; a tall figure was standing in front of them, yet the planet's twin suns shadowed the figure's features. It was bent with exhaustion, as it suddenly fell to its knees in shock.

"I have not seen the countenance of an intelligent species in a very long time." Almond eyes looked into Zek's alarmed and confused ones. "Please take me with you. There is nothing left but shattered bones and wild beasts. We must leave this place."

The Freeing looked as if a huge wave was on the horizon, he was just waiting for it to come crashing down. He didn't want to have anything to do with this…human. He'd just weigh them down. Then again…what was a human doing here on a planet that was just recently listed by the Federation? Zek could only think of asking him the most reasonable question that came to mind "What crew do you report to?"

"The Cygnus, sir. I had lost contact with them about a month ago…I think. I've kind of forgotten—"

"That's alright," Zek politely smiled and turned to Odok giving him a look. The young Frerengi thought for a moment then began quickly typing away something. "I was beginning to wonder what a human was doing on this planet. Excuse me a moment while I confer with my affiliate here." Zek scurried the mere four feet keeping him and Odok apart. They both looked into the depths of the screen. There was a random wanted for any of the surviving members of the Cygnus, from a certain Beld'Khar under the name M'wyr. Zek made a face briefly. It wasn't a usual item they did trading with, slaves or such, but Latinum was Latinum. And it would take far too long to reach their original destination. This was too good of a coincidence. Zek looked over to the distraught human. "Did you say you had a name?"

"Yes, Andrey Fedorov."

**AN: ** _okay…maybe a little far-fetched, but…I'm using an artistic license here. Did I mention my favorite Star Trek series was Deep Space Nine?_


	7. Contact

**AN:** _Now that we've got everything set up, it's time for everything to go wrong. Har har har. Thank you for your reviews again! Sorry this took so long to get out, but, y'know…also…I should also probably give credit to Ursula K. LeGuinn, because one of her character names is Thar (from "The Tombs of Atuan"). And also, saving the best for last, a most sincere thanks to Duckyinthewater for beta-ing this chapter. Thank you, thank you, thank you! 3_

**Chapter Seven: Contact**

Yellow eyes skimmed the dark waters that lay vast and virgin before the helm of the Haad-en-Vreil, the Seventh Wind. The Typhon Expanse was greater than she had ever dreamed or known, even though she was only a few clicks away from her home world, her black lips pursed in thought. The countless planets and systems plagued by Thar, the thousands upon millions of people killed lay in the vast expanse before her. The Captain of the Haad-en-Vreil felt a pressure swelling in her throat, yet she clamped it down as she shoved it away and elsewhere. She was suddenly reminded of how much she missed Veridian Prime, her home. The sand colored sky always held the most magnificent sunsets, yet no stars, as the sky was always a lit smoky orange. She had enlisted in Starfleet so she could see what was beyond their thick skies, but when she had returned, desolation had only met her eyes, the crops ruined, nearly everyone dead. And the sheer wonder that had struck her across the brow made her feel dazed, confused, why the Federation still hadn't sent their aid. It was becoming a rather large problem on the fringe of the Beta Quadrant, and was becoming more and more skeptical of the command of the Federation, what they were telling everyone. Yet she hadn't thought of it much, as the rage with the Cygnus still commanded her mind.

The scent of charred embers and ash still lingered in her nose. And grieving screams that were her own, still lingered in her ears.

"Captain. We're being hailed." The light voice of Lieutenant Xchilra flicked gently across her pointed ears. M'wyr was rather glad of this as her eyelids fluttered closed, golden olive skin seeming to glow in the starlight. Something to distract her, finally.

"Frequency?" yellow eyes flicked to the young xenolinquist, the captain began to move to the chair that acted as anchor to their thoughts, their sanities.

"It appears to be a…D'Kora class vessel, ma'am."

"On screen" Her svelt form was encompassed in the stretched leather chair, held by sleek metallic claws. A sculpted sepia eyebrow flicked quickly to the heavens, confused as what a Ferengi trade vessel would want from them. She knew that the Haad-en-Vreil could easily subdue them; there was no concern of that. Besides, the Ferengi weren't particularly interested in war mongering. It was just…odd. She figured that she'd better find out what they wanted.

The familiar bulbous brown shape flashed on screen. M'wyr restrained herself from making any sort of noise. The last thing she wanted to show was that the Beld'Kur were rude; rudeness meant childishness. And they were anything but. Yet the Ferengi's heads were always so ridiculous.

"This is Captain M'wyr of the Starship Haad-en-Vreil. To whom am I addressing?" She stared at the screen, her pointed chin resting on her scaled hand, most likely coming off as a mixture of dangerous and seductive.

"Uh…" The Ferengi quickly cleared his throat, obviously never having to deal with the Beld'Kur in his life. Her tactic worked. "An honor to meet you. I am Zek of the Ferengi Alliance…"

"To what is your purpose, sir?" Eyelids flashed yellow gems. The captain enjoyed watching the Ferengi squirm, as a small smile flickered across her face, yet only for a moment, leaving one wondering if it even existed at all.

"Captain M'wyr. My compatriot and I had seen that your ship had posted a bounty for surviving members of the Cygnus, yes?" The Ferengi appeared rather glad to get to business, and gladder still when M'wyr's expression seemed to change significantly. And all that would have suggested so was a mere blinking in shock.

"…Proceed…Zek." The captain sat up slowly. She was most alarmed; a crewmember that Thar had not alerted her to? But…Thar was all knowing. All powerful. Well, at least it seemed that way.

"Well, details are details, which I'm sure you're not interested in…but we've managed to come by Andrey Fedorov, the Cygnus' first mate."

That name seared in her memory as she clenched her jaw, M'wyr remembered suddenly how Vrailya told her of such things, when she was infiltrating them, and learning of their sudden plans to discover the planet, when things went horrifically wrong. When they poisoned her and abducted her. "Name your price, Ferengi."

A quiet laugh echoed across the transmitter, relieved that she had taken the bait, as it were. M'wyr would play their game a bit longer, as long as her patience would hold out.

"Not so fast, Captain M'wyr. We have an engagement on Riisis in seventy two hours, an auction if you will." Zek smiled proudly, as if they were going to have the most valuable item there. The Beld'Kur sniffed; the concept of slavery certainly didn't bother her. They had been practicing it for several centuries. But something such as this to prevent her from exacting her revenge. She would have to do it at any cost, she vowed to herself.

"And…what makes you think I shouldn't open fire on your little vessel now? Seeing as I only want to kill him anyway, it should make no difference." She stood and paced slowly across the small dais that was in the middle of the bridge. This statement wasn't true, she really had only meant it for show. Even though M'wyr still wanted to prove that she controlled the entire situation at hand, she really wanted to watch Fedorov suffer in front of her own eyes. It would be a pity if she weren't able to extract her revenge as she had envisioned for the past few months, but, as they say, the ends justify the means.

_AH…ONE WHO IS EXEMPT FROM OUR WRATH…HOW CURIOUS. _

The voice echoed through her skull as she turned back to the four slumbering forms. Fedorov seemed to be far more important than what he really seemed. One who is exempt from our wrath? Could that mean that Thar could, in some strange strain of fate, not be able to harm him? It also had seemed an eternity before Thar spoke last. She hated to play these games, but nodded gingerly, a hand placating itself gently onto the metal frame of the chair. "Very well, Zek of the Ferengi Alliance. We shall see you on Riisis in little under seventy two hours."

The screen dimmed to the stars before them and the space between. Her gaze still fell on the four, their gnarled bodies crippled by the majesty of Thar. A thought spasmed through her brain for a flickering moment: who were these beings before they fell into the subconseous of Thar, only to wake in the dreaming ribbons of a unified existence that it held over their eyes. She looked in the direction of her navigator as she resumed her seat. "Is the Enterprise in the same trajectory of Riisis?"

S'vyead did quick calculations under several minutes. "Not too far out of the way, Captain."

M'wyr nodded, "Stay your course. How long 'til we reach them?"

"About three hours." Burnished orange eyes were tinted green-blue from the light of the computers.

"Soon…"

* * *

Chekov hadn't felt like he had laughed or had been quite this entertained in a very long time. Hannah was more than good company, and quickly chided himself for letting his feelings slip when they were in the canteen. They had run the circuit of covering just about everything, from home to the dangers of microdyne couplers. Chekov felt partially relieved that she was just as interested in technology as he was, but different things mathematically, which he didn't mind either. Listening to her was utterly fascinating, he couldn't help but be captured in the way she said things, and certainly loved her stories of her time served on the Cygnus. But from time to time his gaze would suddenly focus on the swift, easy movement of her pink lips, the way the flesh around her eyes crinkled, her inquisitive eyes. No mathematical problem or the sunwashed Urals was as interesting or beautiful as she. The ensign noted she still favored her left leg, but her stride wasn't so much graceful as it was filled with purpose, and this seemed far better to him. A focused conscience was always far more valuable to him than anything else.

"Pavel" the ensign's heart soared to his throat as he seemed to hear her say his name for the first time. It swooned back down to his chest, as he saw Hannah's dark auburn hair settle back around her shoulders, an energetic smile made it flutter pleasantly.

"_D-da_?" He spluttered, as a laugh made her shoulders twitch. Though he didn't mind seeing her naked arms, Chekov wished she would put a coat on or something. It did often get somewhat annoyingly chilly on the Enterprise, and he would hate for her to be uncomfortable. Yet all these amassed thoughts melted away into nothingness as green-hazel fell into his own blue eyes. His puzzlement kept increasing. How did she even manage to do things like this to him? It was unnerving and wonderful all at once, he was sure that he had never felt this way before about…anyone or anything. Well…maybe about astrophysics, but…one couldn't laugh with or hold hands or kiss…

_Wait. Kissing? Aren't you getting ahead of yourself, Pavel?_

"You really do have the best faces." The engineer chuckled quietly as Chekov cleared his throat and, to his credit, laughed at himself.

"I vish I knew vat ju vere talking about…"

"Well…it's okay. As long as I get to see them."

_Again…how does she do it?_ Chekov shook his head in attempt to clear it. It seemed like every time she said something of that nature, it sent his head spinning.

"So…which way's the engine room?" The engineer began looking about in hopes to find at least the right direction. He couldn't help but laugh at her comical appearance as he began walking to a door to the right. She stood up straight, confusedly looking at him "What?"

"Ju are a wery… strange girl, Hannah." A smile hung about his lips, his heart warming at her appearance. Before she could answer, he turned, trying desperately not to give himself away. It was hard not to already wonder what she would feel like in his arms, what the texture of her hair would feel like across his cheek as he inhaled her. Yet for someone as brilliant as she, someone so charismatic, to have the same feelings for such an awkward person such as himself was rather improbable.

They entered the primary engineering level, and he couldn't help but smile at Hannah's childlike wonder. It was as if she had never seen something so magnificent in her life. "I…I always knew the Enterprise was complex, but…this is incredible!" Hannah suddenly realized her mouth had been open for quite some time and quickly closed it, as her hand lingered at her mouth.

A flash of red jumped up from one of the seemingly endless stairways. Chekov received an affable nod from Montgomery Scott, whereupon he did the same to Hannah, but then stopped as he realized he didn't recognize her. A somewhat incredulous look from the head engineering officer had Chekov laughing, as he took him aside. "Lad, if you don't mind me sayin', but this is en't the best place for…what you're about to do. After all, things get messy an'…"

The ensign's eyes went wide and he began shaking his head vigorously. "_Niet_, Misteer Scott. I vas onlee trying to show her zee engineering decks, because she ees an engineer herself."

The Scottsman chuckled, patting the confused ensign on the back "Ah…so that's what yer callin' 'em nowadays. Good joke there…actually, back in my youth, when I was more risky, I would—"

"Permission to eenterupt, Misteer Scott…she is one of zee engieneers from zee Cygnus." Chekov's face was flushed, not only from embarrassment, but also hearing a little too much from the head engineering officer.

Scotty blinked, then coughed as they both looked at Hannah, still in sheer awe of her environment. He clapped the ensign on the shoulder "Sorry for embarrassin' ye, lad." Chekov exhaled quickly, rather glad that she didn't seem to hear any of what was said between them, and watched as Scotty headed over to the inebriated Hannah.

"So…y'like her, do ye?" The head engineering officer bowed down slightly to come into her frame of visage, then darted quickly out again, pulling himself up at his full height; bouncing on his heels slightly. Hannah appeared to be genuinely surprised to be pulled so quickly from her reverie. Seeing as she said nothing, he grinned and held out a hand "Montgomery Scott, head engineer to the Enterprise."

Hannah's face lit up immediately "Oh…oh wow! So you're the lucky ships keeper, huh?" The former engineer of the Cygnus immediately launched into questions concerning the build of the intermix chambers to the location of the rather dangerous baffle plate. Chekov couldn't help but smile at the situation. Sure he really couldn't understand much of the content they were talking about, but he was glad to have given her this opportunity. He felt it was something that would help make her feel more at home, knowing she now had people to look after her and care for her. Yet the sudden realization that he should be on the bridge in less than three minutes jarred and reminded him that he should leave as soon as possible.

"Well, I dunna think I've exactly met someone quite like you before, Miss Hannah." Scotty grinned, extending his hand. Hannah abashedly laughed, taking the Scottman's hand "Just Hannah…please."

The ensign felt rather out of place, interrupting the engineers as he approached, "Sorry to interrupt, but I should hawe been on zee bridge about fiwe minoots ago."

Hannah looked at him quizzically, making the poor ensign's heart melt a little "Ah, right…" her gaze turned back to Scotty "I'll be sure to come back! Maybe if you're not too busy…maybe you could give me a tour sometime, y'know?" She flashed a smile at Scotty as he nodded "Nice meeting you!" Chekov noted that she was following him, and it took a moment for him to address her, clearly happy he could fill her with such joy.

"Ju could hawe stayed, Hannah. I did not mean to distract ju." An inquisitiveness muddied his features, yet she still smiled.

"Well I mean…I'd like to see the bridge…I mean…if it isn't too much trouble. –" A spry grin from her and his heart went erratic. "—Promise. I'll stay out of the way. Not touch anything…not distract anybody."

_But you'll distract me. Even if I can't see you_. A grin twitched at his mouth, rather proud of himself that he didn't say what was instinctive. Then again…he really wished he had.

"Wery vell zen. Eet eesn't all zat interwesting." Chekov shook his head as they boarded the turbolift once more.

"Isn't interesting?! This is the Enterprise you're talking about!"

As they stood in the small cabin, he couldn't help but notice the way she chewed her lip, the way her hair moved about her shoulders, the way her fingers tapped against one another to an imaginary beat. She often gave him questioning looks, but he just smiled and shook his head.

She seemed also profoundly dumbstruck when she entered the bridge, but kept to her word as she found an empty chair quickly, quietly, not trying to make any fuss. When questioning looks were sent her way, she appeared to introduce herself rather quickly and a few sentences were exchanged before they went into their separate ways of thought. Chekov almost remembered his initial shock of first entering the bridge, but it quickly dissipated as he resumed his seat. Had it been two years serving on this ship?

A soft smile flickered on his lips when he sat at his post. It was good to be back after what seemed like an eternity. There was truly nothing more precious than this, to be present amongst the stars, to be the forefront of human exploration. It was all he had ever dreamed about.

"So…you've been gallivanting all over the place, and you come on the bridge with a girl." Hikaru Sulu chuckled as he checked on warp levels. Chekov looked over to the Japanese helmsman as he began checking their current trajectory.

"Ehh…galawanting? I hawe onlee been on the Cygnus." Chekov said, a little hesitant as to whether his best friend was kidding or not.

"It's been kinda lonely at the helm without you."

"Sulu….I…vell…"

"Captain, I'm picking up a frequency…" Uhura paused, the crew appeared either confused or tense. "It appears to be a hail in a…Beld'Kur dialect…" Her beautiful face suddenly was muddied with confusion "…that's so strange…"

"What is?" The captain tilted his head, honestly.

"The Beld'Kur never really leave their system; only if they are accompanied or slaving vessels, but just a freighter is uncharacteristic."

"On-screen" Kirk swiveled his chair back to the helm of the ship. A woman with reptilian skin glared so harshly, her rage seemed palpable through the frequency itself.

"Hello. This is Captain—"

"I know who you are, Captain Kirk--"

Kirk smiled, yet it had no mirth. "Okay…but I don't know…who you are."

An ebon eyebrow flecked with deep gold pushed skyward, in malicious frustration. "Captain M'wyr of the Haad-en-Vreil." Chekov could almost feel his skin prickle at the harshness of her voice. "—And your little ship…I'm quite familiar with its misgivings. You have no qualms of harming other species, I see, unless it is your own."

There was a hushed silence at the obvious brutality then Kirk continued "You are referring to the Romulans?"

"The mistake that christened the fate of the Enterprise. Yet this is not what I am referring to." Gold eyelids slipped closed for composure before yellow lined in ebon lashes resumed. "You have taken something very dear to me, Kirk. Something that will put my crew and myself at ease. One of the last surviving crew members of the Cygnus, Hannah Ebonfield."

Chekov felt his heart lurch protectively as he turned, as did others. He wanted to take Hannah away from all of this, so she could rest, so she didn't have to worry about this. It was hitting her, one after another. The engineer was already on her feet, her face crumpled with a mixture of emotions; confusion, distress, sadness. She only walked forward, pulled by those frightening yellow orbs.

"What business do you have with me? And how the hell do you know my name?" Hannah seemed to robotically say really without realizing it.

"There was a woman that your crew had taken aboard your vessel. She was my first mate. Your medical crew ran horrific experiments on her, which eventually killed her—"

Hannah shook her head, confused even further "Look, I'm just an engineer. I had no contact with her…and how do you know all of this anyway? You're only just assuming—"

"I know because I had someone who was there. Tell her, Thar."

There was a brief pause, which was only filled with members of the crew quietly chattering to one another, as confusion rippled and ebbed through the bridge. Chekov's eyes remained on Hannah. Her eyes widened and eventually they flew shut, as if in pain.

"So…you know this…thing?"

"Oh, Ebonfield. If you only knew the true powers of Thar."

"Look, ah…" a hand flew to the bridge of her nose, attempting to take this all in "Alright…who else have you…talked to? I deserve to at least know that, don't I?"

Partially beaded dreads clanked against one another as yellow became subdued in thought "Well, if you must know Ebonfield, there were a few science officers, and a weapons specialist…oh and the first mate of the ship, but I still haven't managed to meet him quite yet."

Chekov could almost feel Hannah's knees buckle as she sucked in a breath to remind herself she wasn't dreaming. "Andrey?" She walked a few steps forward; a new ardor instilled in her "Where is he?" A laugh echoed through the frequency, and her face muddied with frustration, yet Kirk resumed questioning, probably for the best, Chekov nodded. He didn't doubt that her vocabulary was full of vile and horrific things to say.

"Captain M'wyr. What…or who…is this…Thar?"

Chekov's gaze fell upon Hannah and anxiety pounded against his ribs. Why did all of this have to happen now? It seemed too much for her; just when she was beginning to recover, all of his hard work gone to waste. M'wyr's voice echoed through the chamber of the bridge, and pulled the ensign's attention to her "It doesn't matter It would certainly destroy all the fun of your search." An insane smile curved the sharp black lips as yellow lights fell on her "Soon, you'll be one of them."

Hannah shook her head in disbelief. Suddenly, her body hitched as hands flew to her head. A scream wrenched out of her lungs as she sprawled across the floor in agony, as a black liquid began to drip from her right ear. The engineer futilely gripped for her skull, Chekov jumped out of his chair and lunged for her, his heart wrenching with her screams. He could partially hear McCoy being called for, as he began to restrain her, her nails attempting to claw the sides of her face. He felt all of her muscles straining against him, eyes rolled in the back of her head. She really was stronger than she looked.

McCoy appeared out of thin air, like he always did, as a tranquilizer found its way into her jugular. She stopped struggling, and eventually fell still. Chekov tears prick his eyes as he looked down at her seemingly lifeless body, those warm and cheerful gold and green swirls, now dull and empty. McCoy shook his head "She isn't dead yet, kid." He saw the doctor reach for her wrist and curse sharply at what he saw. Chekov looked on in confusion and then stark astonishment at the strange green veins that rippled underneath the flesh of her arm.

As they pulled her away to sickbay and he was ushered to stay at his post, Chekov numbly fell into his chair. His heart painfully wracked in his chest, feeling almost powerless, as there was nothing he could do now to aid her. All he could do was wait, and patience seldom came to his nineteen—year old mind. A strange, terse pause had filled the time that had elapsed as if the conversation was awaiting his return.

Kirk appeared to be filled with the dire gravity of the situation, a serious expression cutting his face, "So...all you want is Ebonfield."

"She is of no use to you anyway, Kirk." The flat reptilian nose sniffed indifferently. "She would just be endangering your crew. And don't tell me otherwise. We have the proper means of containment."

"Now hang on a second…" The blond shook his head, as his hands meshed "Why haven't you told the Federation about this? It would have only made sense if you had alerted them beforehand—"

A synapse of fear tingled down Chekov's spine as the yellow orbs flashed vehemently. "We have. Many times." A shaky sigh was exhumed from the deadly woman, attempting to compose herself "It is the common belligerence of _your _Federation that has landed the Beld'Kurian empire and many others in the deadly wake of Thar. Now…are you going to hand her over, or not?" Her seething glare had turned confusion into terror, and the ensign was well aware of the change of atmosphere. No one was talking or doubting her anymore.

Yet Kirk still remained an upstanding example of the Enterprise "…and if we don't?"

Golden eyelids remained closed, almost in disappointment. "Then I suggest you prepare yourself for a slow, painful death, Captain." M'wyr's eyes flashed open, pupils dilated in anger. "The majority of your crew will suffer a quicker fate." The screen flashed to the horrific, and ghastly vessel that lay before them coldly.

The young ensign shook his head in confusion, almost not fully aware of what had just transpired. He hated the way they spoke about Hannah, like if she were an item to have bartered with, not a human being. Though the deadly mass of the Haad-en-Vreil loomed before them, he was rather certain that it wasn't the Enterprises time to go quite yet. Well, he really hoped so. He grimaced as he exchanged a quick glance with Sulu, as if to say _here we go again_.

"Captain, they're preparing to attack."

"Phasers and Torpedos on full, Mister Sulu."

* * *

Hannah awoke to a dull pain in the back of her head, slowly wondering why she hurt all the time. It was an unrelenting deluge of moments like these one after the other. The sound of her inhalation of breath suggested to her that she was not in the expanse of the bridge anymore, but a small cell, dimly lit in white-blue hues. Panic hit her for a moment before fractured images of what had occurred before slipped into her conscious. The strange woman talking about Andrey. What she called "Thar" invading her conscious. Chekov trying to keep her from harming herself. As much as she adored him, it was rather embarrassing, and she didn't want to make that sort of impression on the crew. But she was unable to control it.

She quickly surveyed her bounds as a low strain of panic still pervaded her mind. About seven feet long, five feet high, five feet wide, and a small glass porthole was in view. Not a great time to be a claustrophobe. At all. A new layer of questions began to fall into place. Was she even on the Enterprise anymore?

_OF COURSE YOU ARE, HANNAH EBONFIELD. IF YOU WEREN'T, YOU WOULD BE MOST AWARE._

The young engineer's panic swelled, as she clutched her skull, not aware she was hyperventilating. "The hell…do you…want?"

Before an answer could be generated, she was slammed up against the wall, crying out in pain, as the plastic walls were not terribly soft to begin with. She groaned, as she rubbed her face, slowly crawling to the porthole. Why the fuck was she in here?

_YOU HAVE BEEN QUARANTINED, HANNAH EBONFIELD. FOR THIS, WE ARE RESPONSIBLE. WE STILL BELIEVE THAT YOU WOULD BE A GENUINE ASSET TO OUR RANKS._

"To become…a mindless…drone? How the fuck…would that…aid you?" She panted, desperate to be anywhere but here. Well…maybe not in the Beld'Kur's clutches, but…

_A DRONE IS A POOR DESCRIPTION OF US. WE ARE A COLLECTIVE SUBCONSEOUS. IT IS IMPERITIVE THAT WE HAVE SUCH POWER TO CONTINUE OUR EXISTANCE. _

Hannah shook her head as she ignored the monotonous words of the voice that pervaded her head. She feebly knocked on the aluminum, hoping to get someone's attention. Something clutched at her heart, something twisting and familiar. She stared down at her arm, awash with a disgusted terror of the bulging green sapling contorting her flesh, her skin. Tears of hopelessness cut crude rivers down her face, as a scream mixed of surprise, anger, and pain found her in her small cell, as something began twining around her heart.

Though the voice kept talking, all Hannah could think of was those beautiful blue eyes, and how they filled her with hope.

**AN: **_Sorry this took fucking forever. Of course with the new semester starting and what not, the updates will be rather scattered, but don't fear! I promise I will finish this. Seriously. I haven't been in love with a fic like this in a long time! ^^ Thank you for your patience!_


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